Crime Scene: Scene of the Crime

"...I'm just saying, Guzzle, a little lip-locking with Choco-Tits might do you some good!" You say, a sleazy smile on your face.

"You are such a creep," Maxine sneers, her hand running over Frelling's taut stomach.

The dark-skinned agent shifts closer and purrs, "Even so, Officer Guzz, Officer David has a point; you're so tense. Maybe I can help...work that out?"

You grin, your hand sliding down to grip your slowly hardening dick. This place never ceases to amaze you - here you are, in the middle of a group of badass bitches on the hunt for a facefucking freak, and the two baddest babes are gearing up to dyke out.

Get some, son!

Guzzle arches, one hand sliding up under the back of Frelling's tiny excuse for a a shirt, while Choco-Tits herself leans in, her tongue leading the way to Guzzle's own panting mouth, both sluts beginning to moan with hunger and-

"Agent Frelling! We've got a situation, ma'am!"

Fucking cockspackle!

"Fucking cockspackle!" You groan, releasing your meat rod as a petite blonde swat-cop hurries up to the entwined pair, snapping off a hasty salute. Always with the interruptions around here!

"What's the matter, Sophie?" Choco-Tits asks, her fingers still entwined in Guzzle's hair. Their lips are so tantalizingly close...just a little more...

The blonde swallows and says, "The facefucker, ma'am, he's been at it again. We just got a report of another victim in the city!"

The surrounding activity dies down as the girl-cops absorb the information, waiting for Frelling's next command.

"How long?" She asks, stone-faced.

"The cum's still fresh, ma'am, the girls on-scene say it can't've been more than 10 minutes."

A savage, triumphant grin crosses Choco-Tits' dick-draining lips and she raises a fist, one finger extended. "If we're gonna nail this bastard, people, this is our best chance! Move move move!" She cries, whirling her fist in a quick circle.

The camp explodes into motion, women issuing orders, hopping in vehicles, prepping gear. Frelling untangles herself from Guzzle, and marches to her own ride, opening her door. The blonde cop pipes up again.

"What do you want us to do with the Familia girls, ma'am?"

Choco-Tits pauses, one leg in the car and smiles. You feel a chill race up your spine and thank the weird porno heavens that you aren't the one she's after.

"Bring the bitches along."

Dun Dun

20 Minutes Later

The crime scene is a mass of flashing red-blue lights, Do Not Cross ticker tape, girl-cops with plunging necklines and unbuttoned tops, and a large group of chattering women surrounding the perimeter, yelling questions that are promptly ignored. As K.U.N.T. limps into the perimeter, you lay on the horn in an attempt to get the stupid bitches to move. The horn bleats feebly, and a couple of fat-assed schoolgirls jump and hurry away, clearing an entry for you.

As the car stops with a whining shudder, you step out, stumbling as your foot catches your seatbelt. You straighten quickly, adjusting your shades, and glare at the sea of feminity surrounding you. Nobody laughs, so...cool. You're still the pinnacle of masculinity around these parts!

Glancing around, you see a tight knot of women standing beside an ambulance, gathered around a stretcher. Off to one side, a black van's rear doors are open, and you spy a red head in a baggy black shirt fiddling with what looks like a tv on wheels. You saunter up to the group of women, making sure to puff out your nearly-nonexistent chest. Then one of them turns, and you recognize one *very* existent chest.

"Chief McSlut Boobs!"

The blonde bombshell looks at you and marches over, her hand outstretched.

"Well I'll be! If it isn't the Loose Cannon himself! Perfect timing, Officer, we can use your expertise."

You gape as she stops in front of you, hand poised to shake your own. You ignore it completely, mesmerized by the sight of her bouncing boobs. Her shirt is already unbuttoned as much as it can be without fully exposing titty, yet still the fabric is straining to contain her titanic tits.

Then you get a brainwave.

"Fuck, that's why you're the Chief, huh? You're the biggest bimbo, with the biggest jugs, so you get to run the whole slut show," you say, nodding wisely. "Makes sense!"

Chief Jugs blinks, her hand falling slightly and opens her mouth to speak, but before she can make a sound, you grab her hand and place it on your cock.

"Hey, if you're not using this, I need it for a sec," you say with a smirk.

"Chief Neils!"

You turn your head slightly, as Choco-Tits, and Guzzle march up, your slutty partner dragging the distinctly disheveled Sprinkles and Licorice along by their elbows. The girls are handcuffed, their hair in disarray, and streaks of makeup still smeared down their faces. You grin wider, and nudge Chief McSlut's hand into motion, prompting her to start slowly pumping your dick.

"Hey, Guzzle! We were just discussing why this bitch is the boss, and you're not. Too bad genetics just didn't favor you, huh? But if we deputix...depootyze...make Sprinkles a cop, she could have a solid shot at being Chief in no time!" you say, reaching over to squeeze one of Sprinkles' qualifiers hard. She winces and arches with a squeak, a pained smile betraying her newfound masochism. Slut.

Frelling glances down as you begin casually thrusting your hips, gently fucking the Chief's hand, then says, "Alright, Neils, what've you got for us?"

Jugs grimaces as you begin to hump, doing what she can to match your tempo, boobs jiggling slightly with every move. "One victim, approximately 45 years old, Latina. The Fucker nailed her outside her home - fortunately she had a security cam set up, so our techies are working on finding what they can."

You glance over at the van, and see the redhead is skipping through footage, most of it of traffic and babes wandering past the outside of a streetside home. Boring.

"Is that her? Good...God..."

You look where Choco-Tits is indicating, and the sight makes you thrust into Chief Mcslut's hand harder.

The tight knot of women has shifted, and you get a clear view of the stretcher. More importantly, the used up piece of fuckmeat on the stretcher. Her classy white button-up shirt has been torn open, exposing her large brown boobs to the night air, and her hip-hugging black workpants have dirt scuffed into her knees. If her clothes are a mess, her face is a disaster - her lovely coffee-cream skin is absolutely blasted with cum, glazing her eyes shut and stretching into her wild, tangled white hair. Her lips mumble softly and she twitches now and again, rolling her hips slowly, invitingly.

Whoever did this...you'd like to shake their hand! You settle for pulling Chief Slut Boobs to her knees and bucking your hips, making her tug faster on you.

But your thoughts, such as they are, are interrupted with a crash as, with a choked sob, Licorice smashes into you, dragging Guzzle and Sprinkles along with her in her rush. You stumble, sunglasses askew, as Licorice cries out, "Madre!"

Wait.

Madre?

You actually know that one!

It's...

Mother?!

"Licorice, you have a mom?!" you cry, sunglasses dangling from one ear. The goth Latina shoots you a venomous glance then looks back at her mother, the older woman still writhing sensually on the stretcher.

"What...what happened to you, Madre?" Licorice asks quietly, reaching out to gently hold her mother's hand.

"I'd like to know myself," Frelling intones, looking back at the Chief. Jugs tries to turn to address her, but you catch her shoulder and pull her back, tugging on her wrist insistently. She can answer from down there.

Getting the message, she raises her voice, "Vanessa, how's the security footage coming?"

You glance over at the redhead, hips lightly thrusting into the blonde bimbo's hand, and see the tech girl has the screen paused, an image of the buxom older Latina woman frozen at her front door. The girl gives her Chief a cool look, and a silent thumbs up.