INTRODUCTION & DISCLAIMER – Shane is an experienced detective from Melbourne, Australia, and at the moment he is part of a team assigned to watch and protect Maria, the hot young trophy wife of a dangerous Russian mobster who has snitched on her husband, his brothers and friends, and obviously has a large price tag on her head before she testifies in court.
Bitchy Maria makes life difficult for the detectives watching her, but what will happen when this trophy wife gets horny and it is Shane’s turn to watch her? Read ‘Witness Protection Trophy Wives’, an entry in the 2023 On The Job story series to find out and be sure to rate and comment.
All characters appearing in this story are aged 18 and older and they and the events are fictional, with any similarity to real persons living or dead coincidental and unintentional. There are some scenes involving female characters using the toilet and having their periods, but no fetish material in this regard.
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The house was one like many that filled Melbourne’s sprawling outer western suburbs from Sunshine, Werribee and Hoppers Crossing down past Lara and Little River to Geelong, Victoria’s second largest city. It was a house that could be purchased by investors for redevelopment, and residents who had lived in the street 10, 15 or 20 years would pause after its demolition and try in vain to remember the house that had once stood on the now vacant block.
The anonymity of the dwelling was the main appeal of it to myself, my colleagues and superiors. But this otherwise forgettable Tuesday morning on a cool and grey autumn day with a strong wind blowing in from Port Phillip Bay and the songs of the magpies audible from outside, my colleague Eddie and I were on maximum alert, urgently communicating with our colleagues Tony and Angie by mobile phone and with our hands on our guns, ready to put into place the protocols we had been extensively trained in.
“Tony, send through an image of the vehicle in question,” said Eddie, his accent immediately giving away his New Zealand heritage, and his tall muscular form with Pacific Islander facial features and skin complexion showing him to be of Maori origin. Both of us stared at the screen of our tablet, while I frantically tried to run a check on the registration on the car causing us so much angst.
“That car is not travelling at that speed for nothing,” I observed.
“Excuse me,” came a young female voice with a strong Eastern European accent from behind us.
“In a minute Maria,” said Eddie impatiently. “Tony, what is the car doing now?”
“Still going at 5 kilometers per hour going up the street that connects with yours,” said Tony’s voice.
“Shane, Eddie, I need your help right now,” came Maria’s voice again.
I was completely focused. “Maria, it will have to wait,” I said dismissively.
Eddie and I looked at the image of the car creeping slowly up the nearby street on our screen, and looked at each other. It wasn’t a type of car that would normally be a threat, it was a Pintara well over 20 years old. We looked at the image of the car chugging along the street struggling to get to double digits, and focused in on the driver and passenger.
“Will you stop looking at car and look at me!” came Maria’s voice, even more impatient than before.
“Maria, in a minute!” Eddie and I said in unison.
I turned to Eddie, finally having obtained the car registration details. “Owner is a Mr. Alvin Grey, of Footscray, born 10th March 1917,” I said. “No reports of the vehicle being lost or stolen.”
Eddie and I looked at the elderly, bespectacled driver of the car, who wore an Akubra-style hat that made him look like a farmer. He continued to drive at a speed that surely could be eclipsed by a tortoise or a snail, his equally elderly wife with her hair in curlers sitting in the passenger seat knitting.
The adrenaline subsided, and Eddie and I sighed in relief. “All clear, Tony,” I said.
Tony’s voice was audible. “Yes, that’s what we thought too. Still, better safe than sorry. Over.”
“Thanks Tony, over,” I said.
“Perhaps you look at me now boys?” came Maria’s indignant voice.
If one wanted to find a strong contender for the most beautiful Russian woman in the world, where would one look? Russia obviously, in cities such as Moscow, Saint Petersburg or Yekaterinburg. However, one would be wrong. Possibly the most beautiful Russian woman in the world could be found in Melbourne Australia. Her name was Maria, and she stood in front of us. And the job of Eddie, myself and our colleagues was to prevent anyone else from finding her before, during or after the trial.
Maria had obviously not long gotten up given it was early in the morning, and was barefoot and attired in her nightwear, an oversized white tee-shirt. The outline of Maria’s panties — bikini briefs — could be seen through her sleep shirt. The shirt left much of Maria’s legs exposed, and she had very long legs, fitting as she stood at an impressive six feet three inches in height, even with bare feet like now. Not wearing a bra, the shape of Maria’s C-cup breasts showed at the front of her tee-shirt, the outline of her nipples clear in the white fabric.
A Russian doll-maker wanting to make a doll of a perfect woman could have no better model than the stunning 25-year-old who stood in front of us. Her face was absolutely to die for, her complexion perfect, her big eyes sapphire blue and her long blonde hair cascaded down over her shoulders. Even when annoyed and angry Maria was beautiful. This was most definitely the case right now. One she was beautiful, and two she was angry.
“So what’s the problem, Maria?” Eddie asked her.
Marie glowered at us with her big blue eyes. “My problem is that instead of getting proper policemen to look after me, I get Keystone who are obsessed with watching silly old fool driving car too slow, and not pay attention to me when I have very real problem.”
“Maria, we have to take any possible threat to your safety seriously,” I said. “That car there could have been sent by your husband or his brothers to search for you.”
“What, stupid old man close to 100 who should not be allowed out on road in first place?” Maria scoffed arrogantly. “I don’t think so. While all this silly shit is going on, I desperate to go to toilet but I cannot go because there is no toilet paper.”
“There’s none in the bathroom?” Eddie asked.
Maria glared at him. “No, if there was I would be sitting on toilet right now instead of wasting my time standing here talking to you while urgently needing to go to bathroom.”
“Wasn’t there any toilet paper under the bathroom sink?” I asked.
“Of course there is not, it is first place I look. What you think I am, stupid?” The glare from Maria’s blue eyes got stronger.
“If you had a toilet emergency, you could have used some tissues,” Eddie pointed out to Maria, indicating a full box of facial tissues that sat on a nearby table.
“And there’s plenty of serviettes in the kitchen,” I said. “You could have used them.”
Maria’s expression showed venom more toxic than that of a taipan. “I am very important to police and prosecutors, and you cannot even supply me with toilet paper to wipe my bottom when I need to have a shit, and expect me to go around looking for things to use as my toilet paper. I am in situation where it is when you got to go, you got to go. You are useless, totally incompetent.”
In a further display of petulance, Maria folded her arms and stomped one of her bare feet on the floor, her murderous glance shifting from Eddie to me, and then back to Eddie again.
“I’m pretty sure there’s some toilet paper in the hallway closet, I’ll get some for you Maria,” I said.
I led the peeved young woman to the closet, Eddie behind us. Even though I was six feet tall and wearing shoes, the barefoot Maria towered over me, and even eclipsed Eddie in height.
“It had better not be cheap, rough, flimsy toilet paper like they put in girls bathroom in my high school back in Russia,” commented Maria.
“Relax Maria, it’s just the same as the toilet paper in there before, see?” I said, opening the closet to reveal the large packet of toilet paper, which promised it was double-ply, soft and super-absorbent toilet tissue.
Taking two toilet rolls, I handed them to Maria, the indignant woman snatching them from my hand without a word of thanks and making haste for the toilet on her bare feet. I could see by the way she was walking that she wasn’t exaggerating about urgently needing to use the toilet, and her mood definitely hadn’t improved. She walked to the lavatory grumbling and muttering in Russian, knowing full well that neither Eddie nor I could understand a word she was saying.
Maria did this speaking Russian thing often, which was understandable as she was from Russia, but she could speak English perfectly well. The reason she did so was to say nasty things and bitch about whatever was pissing her off that day, and the list of things capable of making Maria pissed was pretty long.
On her way to the toilet, Maria dropped one of the toilet rolls and the frustrated young woman had to bend over and pick it up from near her bare feet. As she did so, her sleep-shirt rode up, exposing her panty-covered bottom and displaying to Eddie and I that Maria was wearing white bikini-style panties with blue flowers this morning.
Getting her toilet tissue, Maria straightened up and Eddie and I looked at the floor and ceiling respectively lest Maria should turn around and accuse us of perving on her knickers. However, Maria was clearly so desperate to go to the toilet that she didn’t notice or didn’t care that Eddie and I had seen her panties.
She strode into the toilet, which was visible from Eddie and my position and I could see that there was indeed an empty cardboard tube on the toilet roll holder and that the toilet seat was left up, Maria’s pretty face showing her frustration as she slammed it down to allow her to sit on it, the young woman putting one toilet roll on the cistern as she turned around and slammed the toilet door closed, the sound of Maria pressing the button to lock it clear.
The quiet in the house, with only the noise of the breeze and magpies outside allowed us to hear Maria changing the toilet roll over. All was quiet for a few seconds, presumably as Maria pulled her knickers down and sat on the toilet, then came a new sound, a splashing tinkling sound as Maria began to urinate, her pee cascading into the toilet.
Eddie grinned at me. “Hey Shane, I think it’s raining outside,” he said.
I also grinned as the sound of Maria urinating on the toilet continued. “No wonder she was so pissed off this morning.”
Eddie and I both laughed. “She might slash us if she hears us talking about her,” Eddie commented.
“Did she drink a carton of beer?” I asked, as the sound of Maria pissing showed no signs of letting up.
“Let’s just hope she didn’t get hold of any asparagus,” Eddie quipped, as the sound of Maria taking a piss finally came to an end.
The sound of Maria unwinding toilet paper to wipe her wet pussy was audible, then Eddie and I stood amazed as new sounds came from the lavatory, those of Maria farting on the toilet, the sound of her wind echoing in the toilet bowl audible.
“I thought pretty girls didn’t fart,” Eddie commented.
“Maria must be an exception to the rule,” I said, Eddie and I unable to keep straight faces as Maria’s anus released a fart so loud I think her husband and his brothers would have been able to hear her passing wind from the prison where they languished on remand.
The sounds of Maria’s flatulence problems while she was sitting on the loo was like a scene from a gross-out comedy of the 1990s or early 2000s, but of course her wind issues were only a sign of things to come. She farted again, this sound turning into a squelching noise followed what sounded like an avalanche of Maria’s feces going everywhere in the toilet, finishing with another massive fart from her bum.
Eddie and I could not stop ourselves from laughing, as Maria unwound some toilet paper to wipe her bottom, followed by another mass evacuation of her bowels, Maria’s shit going everywhere in the toilet again with more farting, this making Eddie and I feel like we were 15 years younger and watching a gross comedy film. And we stopped acting like responsible and sensible 35-year-old Australian Federal Police detectives, and more like we watching one of those films in the cinema back when we went to high school.
“I think Maria has diarrhea,” I laughed, as the sound of her pooing again then advancing the toilet roll was evident.
“It explains why she was in a shitty mood this morning,” Eddie laughed.
“I think you gave her the shits, Eddie,” I said.
Eddie laughed. “No Shane, you gave Maria the shits.”
I couldn’t stop my own laughter as the sounds of Maria defecating were heard again followed by her getting more toilet tissue. “Yeah, she’s full of crap.”
“Maybe the real reason she dumped Dmitry was after he left the toilet seat up one too many times?” Eddie mused, making the ‘inverted comments’ symbol with his fingers as he said the word ‘dumped’ the sounds of Maria farting ahead having another poo and getting more toilet paper audible again.
“Yeah, she really got her husband and his brothers deep in the poo,” I conferred.
“I think the toilet must feel pooped, having to deal with all Maria’s throwing its way,” said Eddie.
Both Eddie and I could not stop laughing, but we had a lot of administrative work to do so had to become professional detectives, go into one of the bedrooms we were using as an office and get on with it, rather than standing in the hallway listening to Maria’s private toilet noises coming out of her bottom and making jokes about this. We went and did just this, leaving Maria sitting on the loo in privacy, although the sound of her unwinding toilet paper from the roll was heard intermittently.
Close to 15 minutes had gone by when we heard Maria, now having finished having her poo and wiped herself clean, flushing the toilet, then open the door, washing her hands and make her way to her bedroom on her bare feet. As she passed by I could see her adjusting her knickers through her oversized tee-shirt, and her long bare legs coupled with her bare feet looked so hot. I had to be professional.
The door to Maria’s bedroom slammed shut — evidently having a shit hadn’t improved the young Russian woman’s bad humor — and Eddie and I just looked at each other, shook our heads and went back to work. We continued to work for another five minutes before we decided to go to the kitchen and get a drink.
Maria hadn’t come out of her bedroom yet, presumably she was sulking and if she was it definitely wasn’t the first time. However, as soon as Eddie and I stepped out of the office we stopped short, and recoiled. It was like both of us had stepped into an open sewer, the smell of excrement having drifted out of the toilet where the door was half open and filled the hallway.
“What the fuck?” Eddie gasped.
“Yeah, Jesus that’s bad,” I said. “Fucking hell Maria.”
“Maria did flush the toilet, didn’t she?” Eddie asked.
I thought for a second. “Yeah, she did. I remember hearing it. I was beginning to think she’d fallen in.”
“Yeah, I heard it too,” Eddie said. “I thought my sisters back home in Christchurch used to take too long in the loo, but Maria sets a world record for Russia I think.”
“Something’s gone wrong, I hope the toilet hasn’t backed up or something,” I said, trying to breathe through my mouth and avoid smelling Maria’s shit.
“Oh shit no,” complained Eddie, also trying to breathe through his mouth. Calling a plumber to deal with a blocked toilet was a problem at the best of the times, but in a house where one of Australia’s most protected witnesses was being hidden from the world? Not ideal, to put it mildly.
Eddie and I headed for the toilet to try and ascertain just how bad the plumbing situation we had to deal with was, and it was a case of following our noses to the source of the problem, Maria’s toilet smells getting stronger the closer we got to the lavatory.
Entering the small water closet, we noticed that Maria had put the lid of the toilet down when she flushed it. Eddie and I braced ourselves for the horrors that awaited us as I lifted the lid, and while a worse smell did hit our nostrils, we stood back amazed at what the inside of the toilet looked like.
It was clean, absolutely pristine, sparkling white porcelain and clean water awaiting the next time it would be used. There was no sewage backing up from the pipe, none of Maria’s feces had failed to go down when she flushed, there wasn’t even brown poo stains on the bowl nor any of Maria’s dirty toilet paper that she had absolutely shit all over when she wiped her arse.
“Fucking hell Shane, that was Maria on her own?” Eddie asked, both of us staring into the very smelly but clean toilet bowl.
“Yeah, although for fuck’s sake how?” I asked. “No more cabbages for Maria when it’s next time to feed her. And no tuna fish, broccoli or Brussel sprouts.”
“Yeah,” Eddie laughed. “No Indian or Thai food either.”
“And definitely no Mexican,” I said, Eddie and I both laughing.
“I think Maria’s bum should be declared a lethal weapon,” laughed Eddie.
“Yeah, Maria doesn’t need witness protection,” I said. “All she needs to do is sit on the toilet and take a shit or even just fart and no bad guys are going to go anywhere near her.”
“I don’t like Dmitry because he’s a criminal who has killed people,” said Eddie. “But if Maria farted in bed just once while they were married then he has my full sympathy.”
“I feel sorry for the toilet,” I said, still finding it hard to believe that the terrible smells in the lavatory had come out of the bottom of a young woman as beautiful as Maria.
“I feel even sorrier for the toilet paper,” said Eddie, waving his hand under his nose to try and stop the lingering stench from Maria’s bowels going up there even more.
Both of us laughed, until we were interrupted by an indignant female voice with an unmistakable European accent. “Excuse me.”
Eddie and I turned away from the toilet and looked at the young lady — the term ‘lady’ which could only be used very loosely with a woman like Maria — who was responsible for stinking it out. Maria was still barefoot but had changed out of her oversized tee-shirt and into a skimpy top that showed her flat tummy and naval as well as plenty of her bra and ample breasts. On her bottom half Maria wore a pair of tight blue denim hipster jeans that showed the top of her white floral panties and which would have pushed the rest of her underwear into her pussy and her ass.
Maria glared at us. “I want to speak to both of you in lounge room, get in there now.” She pointed in the direction, fury flashing through her blue eyes before flouncing out of the laundry.
Given the situation — Maria was a witness whose life was in grave danger if elements of Australia’s underworld found out where she was — we should have been giving Maria orders and her following them, but the young Russian was so forceful that Eddie and I meekly and without thinking complied with her directions.
I looked at Maria’s bottom on the way to the lounge for two reasons. One, I was worried she might have some sort of encore to her lengthy and smelly session on the loo and fart during the journey, and second because her arse looked pretty damn fine in tight denim jeans.
It was also clear that Maria didn’t feel the cold as much as we did. The gloomy morning was not warming up, and Maria was wearing clothes more appropriate to summer, but the reason was pretty obvious. My city of birth was Melbourne and Eddie’s was Christchurch both of which got pretty cold in winters, but Maria’s early years were spent in Russia, where the cold snowy winters made even the coldest parts of Australia and New Zealand in the dead of winter seem like glorious summer.
Eddie and I sat down on the couch while Maria threw herself into an armchair opposite in a highly dramatic way, appropriate as she should have had the words ‘Drama Queen’ inscribed on her tee-shirt. We were fixed by glares by the indignant young Eastern European.
It was Eddie who spoke up first. “So Maria, what’s the problem this morning?”
Maria was her usual smart-ass self. “You two are supposed to be detectives, but as you not smart enough to work it out for yourselves, I tell you. I am pissed off, because I am locked up like criminal and babysat by idiots. You do not supply me with enough toilet paper and when I need to go to toilet you keep me waiting for more toilet paper because you watch video of silly old man driving car too slowly, then you laugh and do jokes about me making smell when I finally get to sit on toilet and have poo. Dmitry and his brothers Alexie and Ivan get things better than I do. I want out of this hell-hole.”
As was often the case, Maria folded her arms, sulking and petulant and generally behaving like a spoiled child who hadn’t gotten her own way for once.
“Maria, we have been through this plenty of times in the past,” I said, trying to keep patient. “Your husband Dmitry and his brothers want you dead for handing over that information to the police and to stop you testifying in court, as do a lot of their associates. You have to stay here to keep you safe, under our protection. And your husband and his brothers are on remand in prison awaiting trial, so you can’t say they have it worse than you.”
“Here is stupid and boring, and I even have to ask for toilet paper to wipe my bottom,” complained Maria, obviously not letting this morning’s events go. “There is nothing to do, I have to eat crap food and play stupid video games, or watch dumb TV and DVD’s and talk to idiots and cannot go anywhere.”
“Maria, of course you can’t go anywhere,” said Eddie. “We’ve told you a hundred times, your husband wants you dead. We’ve got him banged up in jail at the moment along with Alexie and Ivan, but they’ve still got plenty of connections and contacts outside of prison. There’s a big price-tag on your head, and lots of dangerous people want you dead before you can testify in court.”
“It’s not just the Russian crime syndicate your husband is involved in,” I said. “Dmitry, Alexie and Ivan have plenty of business dealings with the Italian Mafia, Asian Triads, high level drug dealers and outlaw motorcycle gangs both in Australia and New Zealand. You think they want you giving evidence in court? I don’t think so. Plus your husband and those brothers of his are dangerous enough inside prison. If they get bail — and they’ve got high-priced lawyers working on that every day — imagine what is going to happen?”
“You’re like the jackpot prize on a quiz show,” Eddie pointed out to Maria. “The big prize at the end that everybody wants to win but few take the risk.”
“‘Quiz’ not ‘quz’ and ‘big’ not ‘bug’,” snapped Maria, taunting Eddie’s New Zealand accent. “You Kiwis sound so stupid. You say pig not pug, pug is small dog, you say fish not ‘fush’, what the fuck is a fush? And that thing in kitchen that keep food cold is a fridge not a frudge. I speak better English than you, and I born and raised in Russia.”
“Don’t test my patience Maria, just don’t test me,” Eddie warned.
“There nothing you can do about it, I way too important to your bosses, and you have to be nice to me and protect me at any cost,” Maria shot back.
“Maria, you have to cooperate with us so we can protect you from Dmitry,” I said. “Your husband is a dangerous man with a lot of dangerous contacts.”
“Of course I know, I married to Dmitry, I know what he is like,” spat Maria. “And his stupid brothers, knowing Alexie and Ivan make me glad I am an only child.”
“Yes, they aren’t exactly nice people,” said Eddie. “Especially younger brother Ivan, he’s nuttier than a fruitcake. Dmitry, Alexie and Ivan consider murder a means of running a successful business. Without us here to protect you, you will be fished out of Port Phillip Bay or found dead in a wheelie bin.”
“Dmitry, Alexie and Ivan are on serious charges, but not one of them up for murder,” Maria pointed out. “I give you information about drug trafficking, racketeering, horse race fixing and money laundering, but I know nothing of any murders.”
“Our colleagues are working at the moment to get a murder charge to stick against them,” I said. “We understand you don’t know of any murders your husband and his brothers either committed in person or ordered. But we know they are responsible for at least six deaths.”
“Well, if you so sure they commit murders, charge them,” snapped Maria.
“There’s teams of detectives working around the clock trying to get the evidence that will make the murder charges stick in court and then Dmitry, Alexie and Ivan will be going away for life with no parole,” I said.
Maria sneered at me. “That never happen, police in Australia too useless.”
I could see Eddie was losing patience, and he had hold of his laptop, holding up the screen where there were six squares showing six different faces, five men and one woman. “Look at these faces Maria, these are the six people we know that your ex and his brothers had killed in recent years.”
Maria regarded the laptop and Eddie with contempt in equal measures. Eddie pointed at the first face, a scrawny man aged in his mid-20s with a scruffy, ill-kempt appearance.
“This is Rodney Phillips, a street level criminal, drug user, lowest on the food chain,” said Eddie. “His job was a courier, delivering things around Melbourne for your husband’s crime network. Until the day he fucked up, and was caught by the police throwing an envelope containing 50 grand in cash into a bin on the St Kilda foreshore after the cops chased him for a traffic violation.”
“Lucky for Rodney, he got a good legal aid lawyer, this guy here, Mark Morgan,” I said, pointing to the slim red-haired young man in the next square. “Very left-wing, very ambitious, full of social justice warrior ambition. He was able to help Rodney spin some tale about finding the cash and thinking about keeping it to pay off some gambling debts, then panicking when the police chased him, and to tell him to answer no comment to everything else. This story couldn’t be disproved, so Rodney was released without charge.”
“So what happened to Rodney?” Eddie asked rhetorically. “Well, that very night he was found dead in an alley in Fitzroy with a blunt, dirty needle in his arm, a hot shot of pure heroin, enough to kill an elephant.”
“I don’t think your husband nor your brothers in law were too happy about him losing 50 grand of illegal cash before it could be safely laundered,” I said. “But they don’t really have an HR department that has a formal warning system in their organization.”
“He was junkie, probably just overdosed,” said Maria.
“Except heroin wasn’t his usual drug of choice, and criminals on his level on the food chain could not get hold of drugs that pure,” said Eddie. “Plus the post mortem of the body showed he had been beaten up prior to death, very brutally. Who did that?”
“And that night in an amazing coincidence the legal aid lawyer who got Rodney off died too, in a house fire,” I said. “Clearly he knew too much for Dmitry and Alexie’s liking.”
“Or it just coincidence, house fire do happen,” Maria pointed out.
“And another amazing coincidence is that Ivan is an electrician, that the fire was caused by somebody fooling around with the electrics and a post mortem on Mark Morgan’s body seemed to indicate he was already unconscious when the fire started,” said Eddie.
“So, I don’t care, dead junkie and dead do-gooder lawyer not my problem,” said Maria.
“If you think that your husband and his family wouldn’t hurt a woman, think again Maria,” I said. I pointed at a picture of the only woman on the list, a woman aged about 40 with brown bobbed hair and glasses.
“This is Rose Wilson,” I said. “An ex union lawyer turned politician who saw communism as an ideal form of government. So who better to donate to her campaign for re-election than three charming brothers from Russia, the home of communism?”
“What happened to Rose Wilson?” Eddie asked, knowing full well Maria knew the answer. “Well, she found out the hard way that doing business with your husband has strings attached. When she didn’t get Dmitry and Alexie what they wanted, she vanished and two weeks later her badly decomposed body was found floating in Port Phillip Bay, strangled by her pantyhose and missing a leg courtesy of a shark.”
“This all happen before Dmitry, Alexie and Ivan arrested, they in prison now,” said Maria, sighing and shrugging her shoulders.
Eddie laughed sardonically. “If you think they can’t get to people from behind bars, think again Maria.” He pointed at another face, this a skinny middle-aged man with a weathered face. “This is Nick Smith, he runs a dive shop down near Frankston on the Mornington Peninsula. Correction, he used to run a dive shop.”
“He was very useful to your husband,” I said to Maria. “Not only could he go out into the ocean at night and retrieve packages of drugs dropped by boats, he could also help him launder money through his business.”
“Yes, the number of people learning to scuba dive was incredible,” said Eddie. “We approached Nick Smith when Dmitry, Alexie and Ivan were arrested, and offered him witness protection in return for testifying against them, and he refused. Told us to fuck off. But he knew too much, so what happened to him? Found beaten to death a week later by your husband’s associates on the outside, his neck broken and the body thrown into a wheelie bin.”
“This other guy did agree to testify,” I said, pointing at the fourth of the five men, a grotesquely obese man with a pony-tail. “Graham Tyler, a panel shop owner, useful to your husband and your brothers-in-law by importing drugs in car panels and laundering money. Well, he didn’t have much choice about giving evidence considering the sickening images we found on his computer, he was going to be spending a long time with the rock spiders anyway.”
“Yeah, I already know about him, he commit suicide in prison,” said Maria. “Lots of pedophiles commit suicide, it should be encouraged.”
“Maria, if he hanged himself then everything we know about the laws of physics is wrong,” said Eddie. “He was in protective custody in the nonce unit with all the pedos and perverts, but Dmitry, Alexie and Ivan still managed to get to him and have him murdered and the scene dressed up to look like suicide.”
“Blah, blah, blah, dead child molester, cry me fucking river,” sneered Maria. “And if you want to find out who did it, look for guy with hernia because lifting up that fat asshole to put noose around neck would injure anyone.”
“Maria, our point is that if your husband and his brothers got a witness in a secure prison unit that houses pedophiles murdered, they will have even less problem murdering you if they find out where you are. That’s why you need to cooperate with us, and follow our instructions. Otherwise you’ll end up dead like your cousin Leon.” I pointed at the sixth photo on the page, a blonde man several years younger than Maria.
“Leon not murdered, Leon is missing,” said Maria. “Get your facts right.”
“Exactly, Leon is missing,” said Eddie. “Why do you think Leon is missing, and nobody has seen or heard of him since the last confirmed sighting of him at Altona Beach in September 2009?”
“Lots of people go missing,” said Maria. “There could be 100 reasons why Leon vanished.”
I shook my head. “Come on Maria, what are you? Naïve? I don’t think so. Your cousin is missing because your husband and his brothers made him disappear.”
“You don’t know that,” said Maria.
“Your cousin stupidly boasted about his affiliations on his My Space page and other social media,” said Eddie. “Thought of himself as a gangster. I think that would have pissed off Dmitry and those brothers of his no end.”
“Still it doesn’t prove that Dmitry, Alexie or Ivan killed Leon,” said Maria. “Or that they paid somebody else to do it. Leon is missing person, not murdered person.”
“Maria, what do you think happens to missing people?” I asked. “Do you think that Leon was walking down the street one day minding his own business and a UFO came down and abducted him and took him away to another planet? Do you think he got sucked into another dimension?”
“How should I know?” Maria spat. “Maybe he did.” She shrugged her shoulders and glared at us.
Eddie laughed ironically and shook his head. “Yes, that big alternate dimension where all the missing people end up. Maybe right now Leon is enjoying a round of golf with Lord Lucan, Jimmy Hoffa and Judge Crater? Or perhaps he’s gone to the beach for a surf with Harold Holt?”
“Yes,” I agreed, taking some amusement in the sour look on the young Russian woman’s pretty face. “After Harold Holt and Leon have finished their surf perhaps they can go out sailing with Donald Crowhurst on the Marie Celeste, or enjoy a spot of scuba diving with Buster Crabb? Not that there’s a shortage of interesting things to do in that alternate dimension full of missing people. Tomorrow when Leon wakes up in the house where he rents a room from the Springfield Three, he’ll probably be meeting his girlfriend Dorothy Arnold and they will go hiking in the hills with her friends Paula Welden and Maura Murray.”
“And the next day, Leon will be meeting his good friends Glenn Miller and DB Cooper, and they will be taking their flying lesson taught by Amelia Earhart and the crew of Flight 19,” said Eddie. “Then he will go riding on his horse Shergar.”
“I don’t know who half those people are, but I presume they people who vanish and you talk about them to piss me off,” snapped Maria. “And you succeed, you make me so pissed off that I wish I could vanish too.”
“I wouldn’t say that too loud,” I warned her. “Your ex, his brothers and their associates would be only too happy to grant that wish.”
“I hate it here, it sucks,” said Maria, folding her arms in her usual petulant way.
“Well just think Maria, after you’ve testified and put your husband and his brothers away for life, you will be starting a new life under a new identity,” said Eddie.
“I want to go somewhere interesting like New York, London or Paris,” snapped Maria. “Do not try sending me to another Australian city like Brisbane, Adelaide, Perth or Darwin. And I most definitely do not want to go and live in New Zealand with people like you.”
“That isn’t up to us or to you,” I reminded Maria. “But for now you just have to be patient.”
“Patient, patient, patient, I tired of being patient,” whined Maria. “It is so boring.”
“Maria, we’ve given you a treadmill and we know you like using it,” said Eddie. “If you’re feeling bored or upset, how about you go and have a run on it and work out your frustrations?”
Maria glared at him. “I feel like mouse or rat running on wheel when I on that machine.”
I handed Maria a box of DVD’s. “Well if you don’t feel like going on your treadmill, I’m sure there’s a DVD in here you might like to watch.”
Maria glared at me with her blue eyes, took the box and started going through it. “Stupid, stupid, boring, depressing, confusing, crap, for kids, too stupid for spastics and mongoloids, even more stupid film made for retards.” As she picked up each DVD, she threw it over her shoulder onto the floor for Eddie and I to pick up, before she picked up one but didn’t comment, and looked at the cover.
“Do you like that movie Maria?” I asked hopefully.
She looked at Eddie and I, a sneering smile on her face. “When I go to toilet to have a shit this morning, this movie is like what came out of my ass and what was smeared on my toilet paper I use to wipe my bottom.”
With that, Maria threw the DVD onto the floor with the others and stormed out of the living room on her bare feet, cursing and swearing in Russian. All Eddie and I could do was stare at each other, shake our heads, and pick up the DVDs while waiting for our shifts to end.
*
Eddie and I were understandably glad to finish our shift of watching overgrown spoiled brat Maria and keeping her safe, and our replacement officers were Harry and Cassie. Harry was a tall thin man aged in his mid-50s, with a stern expression like a judge or high school principal. Cassie was a reasonably attractive woman aged in her late 30s with her blonde hair in a pixie bob. However while a nice person in looks and personality her only sexual interest was in people with two X chromosomes like herself. If you had a Y chromosome, you were out.
“So how is Maria this morning?” Cassie asked, as she and Harry completed handover with Eddie and I.
“On a bitch scale of 1 to 10, 11, maybe even a 12,” said Eddie. “Put these words into a sentence — spoiled, Maria, a, is, brat.”
“Yeah, she’s acting like a complete spoiled brat as usual,” I said. “When I was a kid, my sister had a friend who was an only child from a rich family. I thought she was spoiled, but she’s no match for Maria.”
Cassie laughed. “I thought my brother was spoiled. You know how he still lives at home with our parents studying one useless university degree after another, never had a full time job and Mum still does his washing and ironing despite the fact that he is nearly 40-years-old.”
“When I was younger I was assigned to escorting an overseas diplomat, his wife and his two teenage daughters around Melbourne, Sydney and Canberra on an official tour,” said Harry. “I thought I would never meet anybody more spoiled than those two daughters. But then I met Maria, and that theory got blown out of the water.”
The four of us went into the hallway, where we encountered Maria, the tall barefoot blonde glaring at all of us. “Oh great,” she sneered. “Now I have the grumpy old prick and the dyke to watch me rather than the nerd and the Kiwi.”
*
I was relieved to be away from Maria until my next shift, and I kept thinking about how she had called me a ‘nerd’. I had copped worse from Maria and her sharp tongue and foul mouth in the past, but this expression did describe my overall appearance.
Tall and skinny with light brown hair and glasses and fairly non-descript, I did have a nerd-like appearance and one would expect me to be an IT worker, a computer programmer, an accountant or maybe a financial planner rather than a police officer. It was this that helped me blend into the background and be a very effective detective. Nobody thought I was a detective because I didn’t look anything like a cop. Even though my current assignment was being a glorified babysitter for a spoiled bitch trophy wife.
Over the next week, it was the same as usual. I would take shifts with Harry, Eddie, Cassie, Tony and Angie watching Maria, and she would give all of us a hard time, or act like she was a princess and we were the peasants. She certainly had her share of personality clashes with the strict, no-nonsense veteran detective Harry.
While all this was going on Dmitry, Alexie and Ivan’s high-priced lawyers were trying no end of tricks to get their clients out of remand and back into the community on bail, and to get charges dropped. Prosecution lawyers were arguing equally hard to keep the brothers in prison and to make sure the charges were not dropped, while teams of detectives were working hard to get the evidence to make murder charges against the trio stick, so they would be going to prison for life.
Sometimes I wished I was working round the clock on the team investigating the homicides rather than watching the star witness, and I would dread going out to the anonymous little witness protection house to watch her. If I came to work from Melbourne, I would pace along the Yarra River at Southbank, looking at Melbourne’s tall buildings either side of the river, at the Princes Bridge and Flinders Street Station, bracing myself for what was to come. One time I nearly walked into the path of a Swanston Street tram heading for St Kilda Road because I was so distracted.
Alternately if I came to work from the direction of Geelong, I would pace the Geelong foreshore and pier looking at the bollard sculptures and the blue waters of Corio Bay, walk along McKillop Street and through the shopping precinct again hoping for strength to put up with Maria for the rest of my shift.
Yet much as I found Maria annoying and abrasive, part of me looked forward to my shifts watching the protected witness. The reason was purely sexist — Maria was hot. I had always had a bit of a foot fetish, and that Mara often went barefoot around the house I found sexy. I would admire her in her tight-fitting clothes that would show her big boobs and nicely shaped bum, especially her leggings which would show off Maria’s panty lines and the indentation of her vagina.
One morning Maria bent over to scratch an itch on her bare foot and her oversized tee-shirt rode up to give me a view of her white panties. I would stand outside the closed and locked bathroom door listening to the young Russian woman taking a shower, fantasizing about the tall girl completely nude and washing her boobs, her pussy and her ass. I would watch her running on her treadmill, her blonde pony-tail bouncing up and down as she got hot and sweaty. I would sneak glances of her doing her laundry and washing her bras and her panties. Of course, I was careful not to let Maria catch me being a voyeur with her underwear. I didn’t want to face her bad temper.
While Maria was normally temperamental, early the next week I noticed that Maria was in an even worse mood than usual, bitching and sniping at everyone about anything and everything that was pissing her off. As usual, she clashed with Harry most, the tough no-nonsense detective not standing for her nonsense, stubborn Maria only too happy to engage him in a battle of wills.
I thought little of it, and on Thursday morning was going to head to work from Geelong, thinking about what ill-tempered Maria was going to throw at me today during my shift, when I got a call on my mobile phone. It was my colleague Cassie, who had been on the overnight shift.
“Hello Cassie?” I asked.
“Hi Shane, we have a code red at the house,” Cassie informed me.
“Code red?” I was confused, we didn’t use that terminology and if there really was an emergency, Cassie certainly wouldn’t be calling me on my mobile.
“Maria has her period.”
“Oh, that code red,” I said, a bit flustered. I then thought back to how Maria had been in an even shittier mood over the past few days. “It explains her bad temper.”
Cassie sighed. “And she’s even worse now.”
“Well thanks for the heads up,” I said. “I guess I’ll be walking on eggshells for my shift.”
“Actually, we need your help Shane,” said Cassie. “Maria is completely out of feminine hygiene products, so we need you to collect some for her on the way to work.”
I was again confused. “Sure it shouldn’t be a problem. But if you don’t mind my saying Cassie, you’re a woman, don’t you have anything you can give Maria to use in the meantime?”
The sound of Cassie snorting with derision down the phone was audible. “It doesn’t like the brand of pads and tampons I use, and it wasn’t shy about saying so. So now it is sitting on the couch with toilet paper stuffed down its knickers bitching and carrying on about everything and anything. Sorry to ask this of you Shane, I know guys don’t like this sort of thing, but we’re kind of out of options here.”
“I’ll get onto it straight away,” I said, listening to Maria’s list of feminine hygiene requirements as directed by Cassie, and heading straight into Geelong and the large shopping center complex in the CBD of the regional city.
Having never purchased period pads, tampons nor feminine wipes before for obvious reasons, I felt quite nervous about the prospect, much like the time when aged 18 I purchased a porno magazine for the first time from an adult shop. But this was different entirely. All I was doing my job of purchasing things for a witness I was responsible for protecting. It would be like me buying toothpaste and dental floss I told myself. It didn’t convince me.
In a supermarket, I tried to go straight in, get what I — or to be more precise Maria needed – and straight out, but it was quite busy with people on their way to work and school. Unfortunately for me the busiest aisle seemed to be where the feminine hygiene products were kept.
I stood in front of the shelves of pads, tampons, feminine wipes and sanitary disposal bags, trying to find the brands Maria had requested feeling completely out of my depth, while people who did have reason to be there by reason of having an XX chromosome structure seemed to be in this aisle in greater numbers than usual this morning, my presence as I searched in vain for the right pads and tampons attracting their attention, and not for good reasons.
A 40-something mother and her teenage daughters glared at me as they purchased sanitary pads, while three other teenage girls on their way to school and also bought sanitary pads gave me funny looks, clearly thinking I was some sort of perve. I got dirty looks from two other young women clearly on their way to work by the way they were dressed, a bogan girl in a heavy metal tee-shirt and short black skirt, two Jehovah’s Witness women who I had seen setting up a stand outside in the pedestrian mall also seemed to be having their monthlies by what they were buying, while an older woman who looked to be past menopause age but may have been buying sanitary wear for a younger female relative gave me a disapproving look through her glasses.
Finally I located the right type of tampons, but not the right size that Maria wanted and as I looked frantically a nurse in her scrubs uniform gave me a dirty look, and then worst of all a young female police officer in her uniform and presumably having her time of the month watched me in that way that police officers do of suspicious people. I knew all about that, I was cop myself, but I could not tell the young uniform constable this of course.
She went on her way, still clearly looking at me, as the aisle was filled with another group of teenage girls in school uniform, all of whom looked at me strangely as all of the other women and girls had done, thinking I was a weirdo. What the fuck was going on today? I had heard of women’s menstrual cycles synchronizing before, but this was ridiculous. Was every woman aged 11-55 in the Geelong and Bellarine Peninsula regions having her period this week, except those that were pregnant? Perhaps they were. Finally though, I found the correct brand and size of pads, tampons and feminine wipes that Maria wanted and took them to the checkouts.
Self-serve checkouts had recently been installed at the supermarket, and I headed for these, then stopped in dismay, seeing they were closed. This meant I had to go through a checkout, served by a young woman who gave me a funny look as I paid for the feminine hygiene products and went on my way to the safe house.
“Have you got what I need?” Maria snapped. The young woman, barefoot and wearing a baggy tee-shirt and sweat pants jumped up off the couch as I entered for my shift. “They had better be the right brand, or there be big trouble.”
“Relax Maria, they’re right here,” I said. I held out the shopping bag to her.
Maria snatched the bag from my hand, removed the daytime sanitary napkins and feminine wipes while casting the tampons and overnight pads aside for now, and stormed into the toilet on her bare feet, and all Cassie and I could only look at each other and shake our heads.
A few minutes later, we heard the toilet flush and Maria washing her hands, then she returned, adjusting her panties and her period pad through her sweat pants, before collecting the rest of her feminine hygiene products and making her way to her bedroom, sulking and massaging her tummy presumably as menstrual cramps went through her abdomen.
*
For the next six days, I found myself thinking that I shouldn’t feel sorry for Dmitry as he was an evil criminal who was responsible for a number of murders, either himself or by paying others to do so. However, given what a total bitch Maria was during her time of the month, I couldn’t help but feel that Dmitry must have had it pretty bad during Maria’s ladies’ days. Probably he would have spent time nervously crossing days off the calendar waiting for the dreaded 28th day when his trophy wife’s monthly friend paid her a visit.
I learned a few other things too, namely that going into the bathroom immediately after a menstruating woman had just been in there sitting on the toilet taking a shit was a bad idea. Not only was Maria having problems with her pussy during her period, but she was seemingly having problems with her ass too.
Another time I went into the bathroom after Maria had been having a pee and changed her pad. She had flushed the toilet, but a length of loo paper which she had used to wipe her pussy and which sported a massive dark red blood stain hadn’t gone down, along with a large clot of Maria’s menstrual blood which was floating in the toilet.
I had seen Maria’s used pads and tampons saturated with period blood when I took the trash out on a number of occasions, and these along with the period-stained toilet paper and clots of blood in the loo showed that Maria was a young lady with a heavy monthly flow. It looked like Dmitry, Alexie and Ivan had escaped from the prison where they still languished on remand and dispatched Maria, eliminating the Crown’s star witness, and then tried to clean up the crime scene.
Of course, the three brothers did not get a chance to get to the star witness who would put each of them away for a long time, and by Friday of the next week Maria was still safe and well under our constant supervision in witness protection in the small unassuming house in Melbourne’s outer west. She had also finished her period for the month, and was now back to just being a plain bitch, rather than a bitch on wheels as was the case when her monthlies sent her hormones crazy.
It was raining hard outside as night fell over Victoria, and wind gusts blew through the trees. I was on night shift along with Cassie, and we were sitting in the living room watching the television, a football game under lights at the Melbourne Cricket Ground, both teams struggling to keep their feet and score in teeming rain.
Maria sat in an armchair opposite, dressed in a pink jumper and blue jeans, her feet bare. She glanced at the television. “Australian Rules Football is weird game,” she observed.
“That’s because you’re not used to it,” said Cassie dismissively.
“I do not want to get used to it, is stupid game,” complained Maria.
“Well, nobody is forcing you to watch it, Maria,” said Cassie.
Maria said nothing more and continued to watch the game with a sulky expression on her pretty face. Due to the inclement weather conditions, it really wasn’t the best game to convince somebody from Eastern Europe that Australian Rules football was a great game, it was a scrappy, low-standard affair.
Next to me, Cassie winced and blinked, rubbing her hand on her forehead, grimacing in pain,
“Everything okay, Cassie?” I asked.
Cassie shook her head. “No, sorry Shane, I’m getting one of my migraines.” She reached across to her purse and took two tablets to swallow, then grimaced in pain again.
“Shane, you wouldn’t mind if I went and lay down for a bit?” Cassie asked. “This headache is getting worse by the second, and I’ve got that migraine aura thing going on too.”
“Sure Cassie, I hope you feel better soon,” I said. “Call me if you need anything.”
“Same for me Shane, wake me up if there’s an emergency,” Cassie said, making haste for the spare bedroom, me hearing the door close.
Maria was unsympathetic towards Cassie’s migraine as was typical of her personality. “Silly lesbo probably could not stand watching men in tight shorts run around chasing a ball in the rain, if there was team of women wearing tight shorts running around getting wet chasing a ball I bet she would have forgotten all about her headache.”
I ignored the comment and Maria and continued to watch the football, until the half-time siren sent the teams to the rooms for the long break.
Maria stood her tall figure up out of the chair. “Shane, I was going to ask, there is problem with my curtains in my bedroom, they do not close properly and I try to fix them but cannot. I do not want perverts to see in and look at me when I am undressing.”
“Sure Maria, I’ll take a look at them,” I said, following Maria into her bedroom as she walked fast on her bare feet.
Going over to the curtains, I could see they were slightly open, but when I closed them I had no such problems and was confused. “They seem fine to me, Maria.”
Maria looked back at me, and to my surprise shut her bedroom door. “That is because I lie about the curtains.”
“Why would you lie about something like that?” I asked.
“To get you alone in my bedroom, so we can have sex,” said Maria. “Now that stupid dyke is out of the way, we can have all the fun we like.”
I thought Maria was joking around, being a tease, but to my astonishment she launched herself at me, grabbing me in a tight embrace — she was very strong which I suppose could be expected given she stood six foot three and was a very fit young woman — pulling me towards the bed.
Before I could stop her Maria — who until now had treated me with disdain and contempt — planted a kiss on my lips and I could taste her mint mouthwash. Despite the shock at this turn of events, I could feel my erection filling the front of my jeans and underpants.
“Whoa Maria, hold on, what’s going on here?” I said, trying to put a stop to this before it got out of hand.
“Foreplay, making out before we have sex,” said Maria. “Remember, I very important witness so you have to keep me happy. And what make me happy now is to have sex.”
“No Maria, my job is to keep you safe,” I said. “To make sure no harm comes your way from Dmitry, Alexie, Ivan or their associates.”
“Well, when we are in bed together you are in perfect position to keep me safe,” said Maria. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a condom. “I grow up only child, and I married to wealthy man, so I used to getting my own way. And I am getting what I want now, which is your penis in my vagina.” Maria pointed at her female area through the tight fabric of her jeans.
“Maria, forget it, you are a protected witness, and I am a police officer, it is wrong on every level,” I said. “Plus you are a married woman, think about that.”
Maria shrugged her shoulders and scoffed arrogantly. “So, being married has never stopped me before. In fact it is hotter to cheat. Plus what Dmitry do about it? He locked up in prison where I put him by going to police. So relax and enjoy yourself, I know how I change your mind.”
I watched from the bed as Maria unfastened her jeans at the front, and I saw the light lemon panties she was wearing. Then Maria slid her right hand down the front of her pants, and into her crotch, the young woman having a good rummage around in her own knickers. She extricated her hand a few seconds later, and pushed her sticky, smelly fingers into my face.
“What do you smell there, Shane?” Maria teased.
“Your pussy.” There was no point in denying it, I could clearly smell the musty, alluring and feminine smell of vagina on Maria’s damp digits.
“And do you like the way my pussy smells?”
“Um, yes,” I said. I was too afraid to say no, even if I didn’t find the smell from Maria’s vulva sexy.
“Of course you do, you can smell how aroused I am down between my legs,” declared Maria. “Even if you say you do not like it, you are liar because of this.” Maria put her hand on my groin, feeling my erect penis through my jeans and undies.
I made one final, feeble attempt to stop this happening. “Why this, now? I thought you didn’t like me.”
Maria laughed. “Every time I finish my period for the month, I get really horny, it my hormones, I want sex so bad. Fingering my twat in bed, or when I take shower or sit on toilet just not cut it for me. You just lucky you in the right place at the right time, and lesbian girl out of way with headache. If it was the Kiwi I would letting him fuck me right now, maybe even that miserable old bastard cop Harry.”
There was no stopping this sexy Slavic stunner, and Maria joined me on the bed, the two of us kissing and our hands going all over each other. I could feel Maria’s bra straps and the shape of her tits as I touched her on her top half, and her panty lines as I touched her bum through her jeans.
“You make me so wet in my panties, Shane,” Marie declared as we continued fooling around on the bed, before Mara decided that we both needed less clothes.
Again, I should have been a responsible police officer and stopped this, but was unable to resist the charms of this cheating Eastern European trophy wife, and the fact that she was married to a dangerous Russian crime boss was at the same time a huge turn-on and absolutely terrifying.
Maria removed my sneakers and socks so like her I now had bare feet, then pulled off my shirt with such force I thought she would rip it from my body. She then took off her pink jumper, and the white tee-shirt she wore underneath and I saw that her bra matched her panties, Maria’s underwear light lemon in color.
The front of Maria’s jeans were already open showing me her pretty knickers, but the front of my jeans remained closed. Not for long. Maria’s hands were soon at my groin, unfastening and unzipping my jeans to show my green underpants, a considerable bulge at the front.
Maria looked really hot barefoot and in her jeans and in her yellow bra. “Shane, I notice that you always look at my bare feet when I walk around house with no shoes.”
“Well, um, you do have nice feet,” I said.
“My husband like my feet too,” said Maria, the trophy wife wiggling her bare toes in a seductive manner. “So how about you have fun with my feet?” She held them out to me.
I didn’t need any further invitations, and eagerly put my face into Maria’s beautiful bare feet. I massaged and caressed her soles, toes and arches with my hands, and Maria moaned in pleasure. I kissed and licked Maria’s feet, sucking on the barefoot beauty’s left pinky toe first and then moving my way down her left foot to her big toe. With Maria’s right foot I went the other way, starting with her right big toe and finishing with her pretty little right pinky toe.
The tall, stunning Russian beauty appreciated my touch and tongue on her feet. “My vagina really like that Shane, I so wet between my legs now,” she squealed.
Maria and I made out again, me feeling Maria’s bare feet against mine, and then her hand went down the front of my open jeans. At first she touched my cock and balls through the fabric of my undies, until she slid them down, freeing my erection, taking my shaft in her left hand and jerking me off, her right hand teasing my balls through my scrotum.
So good was Maria at giving manual relief that I worried that my dick would react before I could stop it and shower Maria’s fingers in a sticky white substance that looked like mayonnaise, but which most definitely was not mayonnaise.
Maria whispered to me in her sexy Russian accent. “Don’t be shy Shane, put your hand down my panties and have some fun.”
Maria’s jeans were down now around her upper thighs, and I put my hand to Maria’s panty saddle, feeling the indentation of her vulva in the damp cotton. With Maria jerking me off, I felt like I was lost in an erotic dream as I put my hand down her pants, feeling her feminine mound and the curls of pubic hair that grew near her pussy.
Pretty Maria gasped and flinched as I put my hand deeper into her knickers, her hot and hairy pussy damper the deeper I went. I could feel Maria’s wet fanny flaps, and I eagerly inserted my fingers into her sticky pussy, seeing Maria’s bare toes clench as I touched her up on her twat. I circled her clitoris, getting the young Russian wetter and wetter and put my fingers further up her cunt, feeling Maria’s love-hole, my fingers now saturated with pussy juice.
“Again Shane, don’t be shy,” Maria prompted. “That feels great, but I have two bottoms, a front bottom and a back bottom. You need to pay attention to my back bottom too. Go deeper into my knickers, and stick your fingers up my arse.”
I was surprised. “Really? You want me to do that?”
“Of course, it feel really hot, and you have to keep such an important witness happy,” Maria said.
My hands went deeper into Maria’s knickers, and I could feel the back panel of her bikini-style panties and the soft cotton that covered Maria’s bum. Lucky panties, and even luckier me as I touched Maria on the sensitive skin that separated Maria’s vulva from her anus.
“That feel so good, Shane,” said Maria, as my index finger circled her rear-opening, before I pushed at her anus and inserted my finger up into her bowels. I had never stuck my fingers up a chick’s bum before now, and boy oh boy had I been missing out. The walls of Maria’s rectum closed around my finger, and she was so hot and tight in her back passage.
The forbidden nature of this sex act — inserting a finger up Maria’s arsehole, the most private part of her body from which she had a poo when she sat on the toilet — made it hotter. I wondered what Dmitry would think, a detective sticking his finger up the arse of his cheating trophy wife who had landed his own arse in jail?
“I like that so much, but too much of good thing and we have other things to do,” said Maria, as she stopped jerking me off.
I in turn extricated my finger from Maria’s hot, tight butt, and then out of her knickers. Maria took off her jeans, leaving her wearing her yellow bra and panties, and then took off my jeans, leaving me with a pair of green undies, which were pulled down at the front, showing my erection now larger than ever thanks to Maria’s magic hands and her manual relief.
Maria pulled off first my jeans and then kicked off her own, leaving her barefoot and in her bra and her panties. We made out again, Maria taking off my green underpants so I was now completely naked, Maria playing with my dick and teasing my balls.
“You have really hot cock, uncircumcised is best,” Maria declared as she admired my penis with its foreskin intact, then rubbed her panty-covered arse against my cock, the soft cotton of Maria’s yellow knickers so sexy.
“Now you lie flat on back Shane, and I give you taste of what we do next,” said Maria.
“Okay,” I said, lying down flat on the bed with my heart pounding and my cock throbbing at what was going to happen next. Maria straddled me, one of her bare feet each side of my torso, and sat on my face, rubbing her pussy covered by panties on my nose.
I could smell Maria’s cunt through the double cotton panty saddle, the musty feminine smell of arousal driving me mad with desire. I sniffed her pussy through the damp, sticky fabric, enjoying every smell from her twat.
“You like that?” Maria teased as she continued to rub her bum in my face, her Russian accent making this somehow even sexier.
“Yeah, I sure do,” I said.
Maria whispered in her seductive tone. “Then imagine how sexy it be when I do that with my knickers off, and sucking your cock.”
I watched as Maria temporarily climbed off me, and reached behind her back, unclasping and removing her bra, freeing her C-cup tits. My mouth watered at the sight of Maria’s bare breasts, they were easily the best tits I had ever seen.
“It is best I take off my own bra, if I leave it to you we still be doing this when dyke wakes up,” Maria observed as she cast her bra to one side.
This was probably true, guys couldn’t handle bras at all, and I watched as Maria took hold of her panties and slid them down her long legs, slipping them off over her bare feet and putting them with her bra, me seeing Maria’s feminine stains from her arousal and her vagina self-cleansing during the day on her yellow panty saddle.
The sight of Maria completely naked was absolutely stunning, and if a gay man saw her in her state of absolute nudity it would probably turn him straight. My eyes went to Maria’s crotch, and the wonderful triangle of blonde pubic hair that covered her female mound proved that she was a natural blonde.
When she was turning around I got to see her bare bottom, and while Maria had a great bum when observed through her sexy clothes, seeing her arse completely naked was something else to behold, her two peach-shaped butt cheeks absolutely perfect.
Teasing Maria squatted on the bed in front of me, spread her legs wide apart and I looked at her feminine areas while salivating. There was her pubic mound and blonde curly pubes at the top, then her pretty pink vagina, Maria’s pussy oval-shaped and perfectly symmetrical, and further down from her vulva was her tight little anus, looking like a small starfish.
Maria put her hand between her legs and some fingers up her box, masturbating her pussy in front of me, then stuck another finger up her own arse and into her rectum, me thinking about how I had recently stuck my own finger up Maria’s bum and how hot she was in her bowels. Seeing Maria finger-fucking herself up her bum was even hotter.
Extricating her fingers from her pussy and her ass, the naked Maria now prepared to straddle me. “Remember Shane, I have two bottoms, a front bottom and a back bottom, and they both want to feel your tongue on them.”
With that, Maria lowered her fanny down and sat on my face. The smell of pussy from Maria’s uncovered vagina drove me crazy, and her pubes tickled my nose as she got herself into position over my mouth.
I wasted no time in sticking my tongue into Maria’s genitals, immediately tasting Maria’s hot sticky pussy juice as I licked at her vulva. At the same moment, Maria leaned her tall, beautiful body forward and went down on me, taking my cock in her mouth, sucking my erection with great enthusiasm.
For the next five minutes or so, Maria and I remained locked in the 69 position, me feeling like I was floating on a cloud as she sucked me off, working my penis with her tongue, teasing the shaft and head while playing with my balls with her fingers. One time she took my cock out of her mouth to suck on my balls, and when she had done t-bagging me, she went right back to sucking my dick nice and hard.
My own tongue was anything but idle as Maria gave me fellatio. With the smell of pussy filling me nose, I stuck my tongue deeper and deeper into her fanny, going up her love-hole and drinking the sticky and fragrant pussy juice that flowed in abundance from her vagina.
Maria squirmed on my face and moaned in pleasure, which was stifled by her sucking my dick, as my tongue traversed her twat, exploring everywhere. I licked Maria’s urethra opening, the tiny little opening from which she peed, and went up and down her fanny flaps, circling her clitoris and increasing the pleasure to her.
Remembering what Maria had said about her having two bottoms — a front bottom and a back bottom — that both wanted attention from my tongue, I followed her instructions. Again, I felt Maria squirming on my face as she felt my tongue on the sensitive strip of skin separating her vulva and anus, before my tongue reached her tight rear-opening.
I eagerly licked Maria’s tight, puckered asshole, pushing my tongue hard against her anus and presumably by the muffled moans the sensations had gone into her sphincter. I couldn’t believe I was licking Maria in the personal and private place where she emptied her bowels, but the reality I was doing just this as I smelled her snatch, her pubic hair tickled my face and she sucked my cock.
So good was Maria at giving a blow job that I felt I might lose control and ejaculate in her mouth, and fortunately she seemed to sense this too. She extricated my cock from her mouth, and lifted her pussy and ass out of my face.
Maria must have tasted her own pussy as we French-kissed again, and writhed on the bed, Maria teasing my cock with her hands and running her bare toes up and down my legs. For my part I fondled Maria’s tits, feeling how big and natural her boobs were and how hard from arousal her nipples had become during foreplay. I moved my hands to the firm cheeks of Maria’s bare bottom and between her ass cheeks, and then to her pussy, stroking her mound and running my fingers through her pubic hair, Maria’s blonde ‘Map of Tasmania’ so hot.
I was so horny that I was ready to hump Maria then and there, but luckily she remembered the condom and unwrapped it and slid it onto my shaft, securing it in position.
“So what position do you like?” I asked.
“I like doggy-style, missionary and cowgirl,” said Maria. “Which is good for you, because you get to fuck me in all three positions. And I always fuck harder when I cheat on my husband, like now.”
With that, Maria got down on all fours, and thrust her ass in the air. I got behind her, looking at her vagina and anus exposed, mounted her and Maria gasped as I pushed my condom-covered cock up her pussy, the toes on her bare feet clenching tight at the sensation.
I could feel how hot Maria was inside her vagina as I entered her, I could feel the heat even through the condom. I started fucking her from behind, the smell of pussy got stronger in the bedroom and Maria soon opened her mouth.
“Go on, fuck me hard Shane, harder, faster, don’t be a fucking faggot, fuck another man’s wife like a real man, fuck my cunt, come on cop, fuck the fucking shit out of me!”
It was hot hearing Maria’s foul language delivered in her Eastern European accent, but we had something else to consider and that was that Cassie was asleep in another bedroom with a migraine. The way Maria was screaming, shouting and using bad language she would be certain to wake her up, and probably half the neighborhood too, not good considering this was a safe house for a protected witness in an upcoming trial.
“Maria, you might want to keep it down a bit,” I said, as I withdrew from her and Maria lay on her back ready for missionary position.
Maria shrugged. “Why is that?”
“Well, Cassie is asleep in the next room, and she is sure to hear us,” I pointed out.
Maria laughed. “Come on, it is fun to live on the edge, don’t you like to have a bit of excitement, or are you just another boring, paper-pushing policeman? But in any case, we got nothing to worry about?”
“How do you figure that one out?”
The smirk on Maria’s face was evident. “Those tablets that the dyke took for her headache, they knock out an elephant or a rhino. One time doctor prescribe those pills for me to help with period pain. They do not help my menstrual cramps at all, but they do knock me out so much that I sleep through earthquake.”
I hoped Maria was right as she lay flat on her back and spread her legs wide to show off her crack. I got between her knees, and again pushed my condom-covered cock up her snatch. Missionary with such a tall girl was so hot, and Maria added to it by wrapping her long legs around me and teased my back with her bare feet.
Sometimes Maria and I went slow and sensual, me grinding my cock in her pussy, her blonde pubic hair and my light brown pubic hair intertwining, other times fast and hard, both of us sweating profusely as Maria pushed her vagina forward as I thrust deep up into her. Sometimes I leaned forward and with the hairs on my chest tickling Maria’s bare breasts, I would French-kiss her. This helped stop Maria’s loud voice and foul mouth for a little bit, again she was so loud it seemed that she would awaken the dead, much less a migraine-afflicted Federal police officer sleeping off a migraine in another bedroom.
My groin was saturated from Maria’s pussy as I again pulled out of her and lay down, and Maria got into position over my groin, before lowering herself down over my groin and pushing my erection up her cunt. Doggy-style and missionary were hot enough, but in cowgirl position Maria was clearly in her best position as she rode my cock nice and hard.
“Come on, go harder Shane you sissy, my vagina like to get fucked rough!” Maria shouted as she rode my groin, pussy juice flowing from between her legs, and I went deep and hard into her. In this position, Maria looked even hotter with her long blonde hair flying around, her pretty face etched in the pleasures of love-making and her big boobs bouncing up and down as I fucked her.
The sounds, smells and sensations of sex soon drove both of us over the edge, and we came at the same moment. Maria squealed like a pig, her rush of orgasmic wetness from her vagina soaking my groin and her tall body rigid at the point of climax, her bare toes clenching.
I could smell Maria’s pussy as she came, and my own orgasm swept through my own body, knowing that Maria was experiencing the exact same thing at the moment only with her own orgasm flowing from her vagina and up her ass. Inside my scrotum, my balls released my semen and the sticky white semen travelled through my cock and sprayed deep up into Maria’s pussy and fortunately captured by the condom.
Had Maria and I had unprotected sex then my semen would have shot up past her cervix, and my sperm would now be swimming up Maria’s birth canal to her uterus, before exploring her fallopian tubes in search of any eggs released by her ovaries in her current monthly cycle. Maria testifying in court while wearing a maternity blouse or dress and sporting a baby bump would certainly not be received well by her estranged husband in court, to put it mildly. Nor my superiors, who would want to know how a protected witness ended up pregnant.
However, thanks to the condom Maria and I could relax knowing that I couldn’t have knocked her up, and as I withdrew from her I felt that was the best sex I had ever enjoyed in my 35-years on the planet to date.
“See, it feels good to screw a married woman who loves to fuck even more when she’s cheating,” Maria said, clearly reading my mind. “And good news, our fun not over yet.”
Maria reached over to my groin and pulled off my condom. Then sitting a most unladylike position, her legs wide open displaying her pubic hair and her pussy, Maria tipped the contents of the condom into her mouth, swirling the semen around on her tongue and against her teeth in a seductive manner, before swallowing it with a big gulp and a cheeky look on her pretty face.
Maria then jumped her tall body off the bed, and walked on her bare feet to the chest of drawers, me admiring her bare bottom as she retrieved a pair of clean white knickers and an oversized tee-shirt. She also took a can of air-freshener and sprayed it around.
“This bedroom smell of vagina, and the dyke can probably smell pussy from ten miles away,” Maria observed as she turned around to face me, looking just as hot from the front with her big tits, flat tummy with cute naval and triangle of blonde pubes.
“Now, we have fun and have shower together,” said Maria, leading me into the bathroom where she closed and locked the door after turning on the light and exhaust.
It was still pouring with rain outside as Maria turned on the shower and we jumped under the warm droplets, embracing as we washed, me hoping that if Cassie happened to wake that she would think the noise of the shower was just more rain. She hadn’t woken as Maria and I had engaged in coitus, which was amazing given how loud Maria was.
In the shower I enjoyed the sights of Maria washing her more private parts of her tall body, my cock again stirring at the sight of Maria’s boobs covered in suds and bubbles, and the sight of her washing her pussy and her ass, her bum covered in soap like her tits and her blonde pubic hair saturated with suds too. Then Maria rinsed off, and I watched the soapy water flow down her long legs to her bare feet and the shower floor, before going down the drain.
Both of us now refreshed after our shower, we turned off the taps and climbed out to dry off, me watching as Maria sat naked on the bench next to the shower and brushed her long blonde hair, her legs apart to show her snatch.
“So now my fun is over and I have to be prisoner in witness protection again,” lamented Maria. “I fucking hate it.”
There was one thing about Maria I had never known, and as I dried my back I couldn’t hold back my curiosity any longer. “Maria, it was your own choice to go to the police, and you were told what life in witness protection would be like. So why did you go to the police when you were under no obligation to do so? It was very brave of you, but still.”
Maria regarded me with cold blue eyes. “It Dmitry’s fault. He try to put restrictions on me, when it is his fault we start to run out of money.”
“Restrictions?” I asked.
“Yes,” Maria affirmed, her pretty face scowling. “He cut back my allowance, tell me I have to do the housework at home instead of hiring cleaner to do it, and say that I had to try and get job. He try to make me walk his dog instead of getting dog-walker to do it. It is stupid dog, it smell and it always try to hump my leg.”
I smirked at the mental image, but Maria did not seem amused in the slightest. “It not funny Shane, Dmitry say I cannot go out to lunch and shopping with my girlfriends to places like Prahran and in the city more than once a week, have to sell some of my clothes and I have to have reduced credit card limit. He say I cannot have new car, and that we cannot have our holiday in luxury apartment on Gold Coast or go on cruise like we do last year, we have to go and stay in boring cabin near lake in Bendigo. And it is Dmitry fault that we running low on cash, not mine.”
“How so?” I asked.
“Dmitry lousy investor,” said Maria. She stood up, took her clean white knickers and stepped her bare feet into them, pulling them up and adjusting them around her bum and her box. “He make stupid investments in property and shares that lose money and he buy racehorses that have less chance of winning race than water buffalo. Seriously, he might as well have given our bank account, credit card details and identification to Nigerian Prince and be done with it.” She shook her head. “Then there was all the money wasted on IVF.”
“IVF?” This was the first I had heard of this.
“Yes, stupid IVF,” said Maria, putting on her over-sized tee-shirt and covering her boobs and white panties. “Dmitry want to have kids, but I not fall pregnant. We go to doctors, and I perfectly fine but Dmitry had low-sperm count. So I have all these procedures to try and get me knocked up that cost thousands per cycle and which me feel like zoo animal in breeding program, but not one of them worked and I get my period every 28 days without fail.”
Maria walked over to the sink on her bare feet, and took her toothbrush. She then laughed. “My husband is Russian crime boss who is feared throughout Melbourne, but behind closed doors he is actually nothing but a great big poof who cannot get his own wife pregnant.”
I was just processing all of what Maria had said, plus her vindictive laugh as she had disparaged his infertility as making him homosexual. “So Maria, you didn’t go to the police because of your concern about the illegal activities of your husband, his brothers and their associates, you did it because you were running short of cash and your husband was putting restrictions on your lifestyle and spending.”
“Correct Shane,” Maria said as she brushed her teeth, the toothpaste looking like another substance in her mouth entirely. “I guess that is why you are a detective.”
“So, if there were no financial issues, and you still got to enjoy all the money your husband brought in with no restrictions, then you wouldn’t have gone to the police?”
Maria had that look of smug amusement on her face. “Of course I not going to go to police if everything the way it was before. I do not care how Dmitry make his money or the crimes he and his brothers commit, all I know is that I want the money I entitled to and the lifestyle I deserve. Remember I always get what I want, whether it be my husband’s money or some guy to fuck me. Like you, I want sex, you have sex with me, now I happy I get what I want.”
In my career as a detective I had met some selfish, cold, heartless people in my time, but what Maria had said made this sexy blonde stunner one of the coldest and most calculating ever. I didn’t think she had these attributes before, but after our conversation it was clear without any shadow of a doubt that Maria rated zero on ethics and morals. She was as bad as, if not worse than her estranged husband, and I had just gone against everything I should have done as a police detective with a protected witness by getting into Maria’s knickers and fucking her.
Maria went to bed, and I returned to the living room, where the football telecast had just finished for the night. With Cassie still asleep with her migraine, I should have stayed awake but having such hot sex with Maria must have tired me out, and coupled with the persistent sound of the rain outside, before I knew it I had fallen asleep, and didn’t wake up until the early Saturday morning, where it was still drizzling outside.
I mentally reprimanded myself for falling asleep on the job during nightshift. Some detective I was. Although falling asleep was one thing, fucking a criminal’s trophy wife in witness protection quite another. Yawning and stretching, I stood up off the couch, and heard a door open and Cassie hurried in, looking quite distressed.
“Shane, I slept all night,” she said, clearly dismayed. “Why didn’t wake me up?”
“Well, you weren’t feeling very well and I had things covered out here,” I said, not disclosing that I had fallen asleep too and that was a very minor sin compared with what else I had gotten up to last night.
“Please don’t tell our boss about this,” Cassie said.
“Don’t worry Cassie, your secret is safe with me,” I said. “So, I hope you’re feeling better this morning?”
“Thanks Shane, you’re a really good friend,” Cassie said, as we walked into the kitchen to make some tea. “I feel better today, just a bit light-headed like I always do after a migraine.”
Cassie and I were soon joined in the kitchen by the third occupant of the house, a certain stunning tall blonde Russian who sauntered in wearing her oversized tee-shirt over panties, her feet bare. She opened the refrigerator to get herself a drink.
“Oh good morning Cassie,” said Maria, her expression one of faux-friendliness. “Hope your head is feeling better today.”
“Yes, thank you Maria,” replied Cassie.
“You missed out on a lot last night, Cassie” said Maria, a teasing look on her face, while fear rose in the pit of my stomach.
“Really?” Cassie asked dismissively.
“Really,” Maria affirmed. She then turned to me, and put a teasing tone in her voice. “Shane had a really good time, list night, didn’t you Shane?”
I stood rigid like a statue, feeling hot and cold at the same time. What was Maria going to say?
“Why did Shane have a good night, Maria?” Cassie asked.
The feeling of panic got worse as Maria said, “Shane had a good night last night because his team won the football, didn’t you Shane?”
“Yes, my team won the football last night,” I managed to say, hoping they did, otherwise I would look pretty stupid.
“And I had a good night too last night,” said Maria, a smart-ass look on her pretty face.
“Why did you have a good night, Maria?” Cassie asked.
Maria stared back at her. “Because I didn’t have some silly dyke detective watching me and thinking about getting into my pants.”
With an arrogant shrug of her shoulders, Maria turned and left the kitchen, striding for her bedroom on her bare feet.
Cassie fumed. “Is it wrong that sometimes I want Dmitry and his brothers to find out where she is?”
“Wrong, but understandable,” I said.
.
I should have been feeling relief that Maria hadn’t disclosed what happened to Cassie, but I could not relax. Maria was a selfish, cold-hearted and demanding bitch, and she had something to hold over me now. Would she use it to get what she wanted in the future?
My heart raced and my stomach churned with anxiety, and when Harry and Eddie arrived to take over I jumped into my car and raced away, panic surging through my body. I had to do something to relax right now and calm the fuck down. Initially I raced through the drizzle on the Princes Highway, making for the national park at the You-Yangs, the tall mountains that stood out on the Werribee Plains.
However, I was so distracted that I missed the exit and continued driving through the drizzle to Geelong. I had thought of driving out to the town of Queenscliff on the Bellarine Peninsula or perhaps Barwon, but was so distracted I didn’t make a left turn on McKillop Street as I continued, and in fact was in such a panic that I didn’t remember driving on Moorabool Street at all until I saw the light towers of Kardinia Park vanishing in my rear-view mirror as I sped through South Geelong to Belmont, a huge worry given this was such a busy road with many traffic lights, plus a railway crossing busy with goods and passenger trains most of the time.
Next I thought of going to the Great Ocean Road, to Lorne, Apollo Bay or one of the other scenic towns on the Surf Coast, but took a wrong exit and soon found myself heading inland on the road to Colac, trees, power-poles, farms, livestock, other vehicles and wind turbines flashing by as I drove at speed.
Finally I reached my destination of the pretty town of Colac, and parked my car, hurrying into the Botanic Gardens that overlooked the vast expanse of Lake Colac, and tried to calm down and gather my thoughts in the relaxing setting.
I reprimanded myself for getting hot at the memories of the hot sex with Maria last night and thought about how foolish I had been. What if Maria opened her big mouth and blabbed? She certainly wasn’t trustworthy. I had made a serious error of judgement, and would now be on eggshells until the trial, when Maria would give evidence and hopefully that would be the end of the matter? What was going to happen in the meantime? Would Maria blackmail me? Would I get found out? It was all my own fault, I was an adult who had made bad choices in sleeping with a wife in witness protection, and would have to face the consequences if this ever came to light.
*
To my immense relief, Maria never said a word of what we did that rainy night, nor did she ever mention it again, much less hold it over me to get what she wanted. The trial arrived, with Dmitry, Alexie and Ivan along with some of their associates now facing murder charges after homicide detectives were able to find enough evidence to make the murders of the crooked dive shop owner and the female politician stand up in court.
Maria gave her evidence of the illegal activities of her husband and his brothers, and when Dmitry, Alexie and Ivan along with the other members of the gang were found guilty of all charges they were jailed for life, never to see freedom again.
As for Maria herself, she vanished off into the big wide world under a new name and identity. I wondered how those who organized this managed such a feat — a six foot three stunning blonde Russian girl isn’t exactly easy to hide, but still Maria wasn’t my problem now so what did I care?
Maria herself for me was now just a memory. One a cautionary memory of how as a police officer I needed to think with my brain and not my dick and never screw around with a protected witness ever again. And two, masturbatory fantasies to be relived in bed at night as I engaged in solitary vices.
So twelve months later in the year 2013, what was I doing now? Well, today I was at work in another non-descript house in the beachside suburbs between Chelsea and Frankston that nobody would ever notice. It was a hot and sunny Melbourne day outside, and Eddie was doing some paperwork in the front room.
I was at the rear of the house where there were three doors, the doors to the bathroom, the toilet and the laundry. While the bathroom door and laundry door were open, the toilet door was closed, and from inside I could hear the occupant advancing the roll of toilet paper, the holder rattling.
To this I paid little attention, until to my utter astonishment the toilet door was flung open, and I was confronted with the sight of Trish, a tall, slim, attractive young woman aged 28, with her long dark hair cascading down past her shoulders sitting on the toilet. Her swarthy skin and deep brown eyes gave away Trish’s South American origins, as did her voice when she spoke.
“Shane, I run out of toilet paper halfway through, you need to get me some more tissue,” she said, pointing at the toilet roll holder that showed an empty cardboard tube.
I was too shocked by suddenly seeing a pretty woman sitting on the toilet to react properly, and instead stood there staring which wasn’t polite, but I could hardly help it. On her top half, and due to the hot weather, Trish wore a strappy white top which showed so much of her big mocha-colored tits and the pink bra that she tried to restrain them with that she might as well have gone topless.
On her bottom half, and pulled down around her ankles, Trish wore a pair of denim shorts and a pair of pink bikini-style panties, and she was barefoot, her toes poking out under her lowered shorts and underpants. Trish’s pink double-cotton panty saddle was facing upwards, and I could clearly see the creamy colored feminine stains from between her legs on her pants.
And I could clearly see the part of Trish’s body responsible for these stains. Trish sat on the toilet with her legs wide apart, showing me a dense forest of dark pubic hair all over her feminine mound and her pussy, Trish’s pink vagina visible amongst all her pubes. She made no attempt to close her knees, despite showing off her hairy pussy to me.
So distracted was I by the sight that I sort of spaced out, and it was only Trish snapping her fingers in my face that brought me around, along with the smell of poo that entered my nostrils for the first time, and reminded me exactly Trish was doing on the toilet.
“Sorry Trish?” I stammered, moving my glance from Trish’s pussy initially to the floor, but as I could see her pants I looked upwards, seeing her big, barely-covered tits first and then managing to look Trish in the face.
“Shane, I just said, I ran out of toilet paper and you need to get me some right away so I can finish having my poo,” said Trish, indicating the empty toilet roll. Again not bothered by the fact that I was male and she was female, Trish farted into the toilet and I heard her feces splashing into the water, Trish’s toilet smell immediately getting worse.
“Right away Trish,” I managed to say, turning around to go and retrieve some.
“Oh and Shane, I need you to get me a sanitary napkin too,” said Trish.
“Sanitary napkin?” I said, again looking into the toilet with Trish on the loo and her legs still wide apart.
“Yes, a sanitary napkin, a period pad,” said Trish, impatience in her voice. “When I wipe my bottom, I notice spots of blood from my vagina on my toilet paper and there small clots of menstrual blood in toilet, so my period start a day early this month. My pads are in my underwear drawer.”
“I’ll um, go and get one for you as well as some toilet paper Trish, just sit tight and I’ll be right back with you,” I said.
Trish snorted in derision. “Well I cannot go anywhere, I am stranded on toilet in mess with no paper to wipe my bottom, and I am on my period. Hurry up so I can finish and get off the toilet.”
I did as Trish told me, hearing her cursing in Spanish as I went on my way to her bedroom. Retrieving her a new sanitary napkin from the packet in her underwear drawer, I then retrieved the stranded South American girl a new roll of toilet paper from the laundry cupboard.
Passing them to Trish, I said, “I’ll just leave you to have some privacy Trish,” and went to leave, only to be stopped by Trish snapping her fingers at me again.
“You are not going anywhere, Shane,” she said as she changed the toilet roll. “It is nice day outside, my husband Carlos, his brother and their stupid friend are on remand in prison, but I not allowed to go out of this house to go for walk on beach and enjoy the sunshine or have walk around shopping center in Frankston?”
I sighed. “Trish, we’ve been through this before. It’s just too dangerous, your husband has a lot of connections outside of the cartel who don’t want you to testify.”
Trish leaned forward on the toilet, unwrapped and unfolded her sanitary napkin, pressing the period pad into her panties and wrapping the wings around before straightening up again. “So, I give valuable information to police about major drug smuggling cartel operating between Australia and Venezuela, and not only do you send my no-good criminal husband to jail, you put me in this prison too.”
“It’s all for your own safety, Trish,” I said, but Trish cut me off.
“My own safety, my own safety, I hear it 100 times before and I fucking sick of it,” Trish sneered.
I had obviously been in debates with people before, but the debate that took place over the next 10 minutes or so was the most bizarre I had ever been in, and hard to believe what was actually happening was real. Still with her legs wide apart showing off her pussy now with visible menstrual blood on her fanny flaps, Trish debated me about the way she was being treated in witness protection, and how she was fucking sick of it.
She also had no qualms about slagging off her husband Carlos, revealing that the reason she informed on him and his family to the police was because she caught him in a compromising position with her younger sister Juanita — who Trish described as a selfish and spoiled home-wrecking brat — with the 21-year old sister having her skirt up around her waist and her panties down around her ankles as Trish’s husband ate out her hairy and according to Trish smelly pussy. The whole situation sounded like some really bad soap opera from Latin, Central or South America.
The whole time, Trish continued pooing on the toilet, not caring at all that I could see, hear and smell everything she was doing, not to mention her getting toilet paper to wipe her pussy and her ass. At one stage Trish urinated in front of me, her pee tinkling into the toilet, me thinking that was strange as she would probably have had her piss when she first pulled her knickers down and sat on the toilet, but evidently she didn’t. She wiped her wet pussy, and went back to having her poo and chastising me
Finally, Trish was done. Still sulking about not getting her way, Trish stood up off the very smelly toilet and flushed it. She went to pick up the empty cardboard tube from the first toilet roll as well as the plastic packet and peel-back strip from her sanitary napkin, but dropped the cardboard tube on the floor.
Cursing in Spanish, Trish turned around with her shorts and her knickers still down around her ankles to pick it up, bending over and showing me her buttocks in the process. The cheeks of Trish’s bare bottom spread as she bent over me with her ass in the air, showing me not only her pink vagina amongst all the hair but her tight pink anus too, which contrasted with her sultry, South American skin.
Turning back around, Trish pulled up her knickers and adjusted her period pad in place between her legs so it was comfortable and in the right position for her pussy to bleed into, then her shorts. She again adjusted her panties around her bum and her box through the denim, and strode out of the toilet on her bare feet making for the bathroom on her bare feet, stopping only to dispose of the empty toilet roll and the feminine hygiene wrappings in the bin.
As Trish washed her hands with plenty of soap and warm water at the sink she said to me, “So, that’s just it, I have to spend all my time in this crappy house until I testify against Carlos and the others and get new identity in witness protection?”
“That’s about the size of it,” I said.
Trish turned off the taps and dried her hands on a towel. “Great, legal system in Australia so fucking slow, and I have months of months of having to put up with grumpy old bastard, the Kiwi, the lesbian and the homosexual babysitting me?”
“Who’s the homosexual?” I asked.
Trish glared at me with her big brown eyes. “You are Shane. You look like a homo, you talk like a homo and you act like a homo, or poofter as they say in Australia, so therefore you are homosexual. Why else you think I let you in bathroom while I sit on toilet having shit, and menstruating too? You think I do that in front of straight man?”
Again, Trish glared at me in derision, then turned and walked off on her bare feet, heading for her bedroom, and the door slammed shut. I shook my head. That was a new thing, a protected witness, or indeed anyone thinking I was gay. At least if Trish thought I was a homosexual, she wouldn’t let me get into her panties and I wouldn’t give in to temptation and repeat the same mistakes I had with Maria last year.
Still, even though it was weird seeing Trish using the toilet while on her period in front of me, she was still an absolutely stunning and sexy South American siren. I had obviously seen her with bare feet before today, but now I had seen her with her knickers down, and her hairy pussy, swarthy bare bottom and bright pink vulva and anus. As for Trish’s tits, her top and bra left very little for me to imagine.
And I would be imagining Trish a lot when my shift finished, and I got into bed tonight with plenty of tissues handy. My fantasies about Trish would be just that, fantasies, but my thoughts of Maria while pleasuring myself tonight would be memories, combined with a little fantasy about Maria and Trish in witness protection together, perhaps?
THE END — PLEASE RATE AND COMMENT…