"So she pissed on you and you topped her? Jesus fucking Christ," exclaimed Constable Gareth Northgate as he sipped his tea.

"Nah stupid cunt," scoffed Constable Darius Wassell, heaving his boots off and tossing them into his locker. "Keep it quiet you daft cunt. She sort of snuffed it afterwards. It was fucking quick."

The men's locker room echoed to the clattering sound as Gareth gazed round the room and back over his shoulder at the empty kitchenette, then again leaned against the doorframe waiting for his pal to get out of uniform. A night out beckoned and they had privilege passes into the new club in town.

"No one around Wasser. I mean you got out of town easy as well," he asked.

"Had to. The only reason I was there was because the flight was delayed four hours and I had time on my hands. The old gaolhouse was preserved in the city as a museum, but hardly anyone visited it according to the staff," Wassell told his mate as he pulled off his uniform shirt.

Northgate admired the huge bulk of the rookie copper's anatomy as dark brown muscles rippled as he stripped. Without embarrassment but with great inner pride, Darius stripped off his shorts and turned as he searched for some cologne in a bag on the bench. His thick heavy dong slapped against his athletic thighs and his mate stared at the magnificent display of the Negroid sexual potential.

"You actually stemmed her with that? No wonder she popped her clogs," he suggested incredulously. "I mean how did it get to that stage?"

Darius grinned evilly as he buttoned up his shirt.

"Well it was like this....."

*********

Melbourne,Victoria was steaming in the high 30s as Darius entered the city in the shuttle bus. He was sweating buckets, but felt a head cold coming on, the AC in the bus packed up on the way, the Russian driver unapologetic and to aggravate him further he knew he had just spent virtually all his $Australian in the terminals. The four hour delay in his Heathrow flight annoyed the control freak policeman and he had just seen off on a flight to Wellington, the chick he had enjoyed shagging all of his three week vacation down under.

Juliette Sweetour had been the most unusual bed partner for a squat, muscle bound, ethnic minority community officer in the UK force. Lanky with no shape, prim on first impressions, natural blonde hair tied scruffily back, trendy specs perched on the end of a neat nose and with grey green intense eyes, she looked the epitome of the schoolteacher with specialities in Physical Education and Geography he found her to be. Her plain almost frumpy clothes had betrayed a passion for frivolous underwear and a sexual appetite, that Darius had had difficulty in recalling ever in his very active and diverse sexual life.

Meeting on the Ayers Rock Safari, the thirty nine year old New Zealander had painfully stumbled, he had caught her and once their eyes locked together at close quarters she had propositioned him, by surreptitiously hiking up the legs of her baggy shorts as he examined her sprained ankle in the safari truck. In the minutes before any of the other trekkers had clambered in, he had glorious views of her shaven mott as she held the wide legs of her silk panties aside, declaring her desire to fuck him. Within seconds - Darius's prick had inevitably started to lengthen down his gleaming brown thigh and they had fucked their way round the package tour they were both booked on. Cities, sights and sounds had been a blur to the twenty four year old Darius, but he could recount every minute and every which way Juliette had taken or used his cock. Not a man of detail or recalling not need to know facts, Darius nevertheless catalogued in his mind - each shag the variations, the time and what they were both wearing.

Her slender almost childlike body had fascinated him. Juliette listed climbing, cycling , wind surfing and long distance walking amongst her activities and he found there was not an ounce of spare flesh on her hard body. Her cunt was shaven smooth and was formed by only a slit, pure and simple. Not a trace of labial looseness, no hanging flaps, no outer curtain of stretched lips spoiled the crisp, long, pencil thin line that opened into an extremely wet and capacious snatch. On opening her legs wide to take Darius's enormous brown tool, he had mused on the way her orifice seemed to widen naturally, showing him the tender drape of inner membrane that housed a highly visible urethra. The force with which her piss had exploded from this tiny hole had taken him by surprise and he had drunk it as willingly as he had devoured the many bottles of Antipodean wine.

Flat - but not droopy, featureless tits with pale almost indented nipples quivered rather than wobbled like the busty types he usually went for, capped the total waif like image that nourished an animal liking for copulation in all it's forms.

Juliette had been quite happy with her participation, knowing she would never see him again. Her false email address, phone numbers and address she had given him just before her flight home, given only after Darius had worn himself out pleading with her. After the passionate and tearful kiss in the terminal, he had rejoiced in the time spent in good old Australia and was making plans as to when he could afford his next trip to the other side of the world when the flight delay was announced.

"Ve vill haf to shtopp here," announced the Russian bus driver over the loudspeaker system. "Eet ees broken."

Darius looked around aghast at the idea of being abandoned in some suburb of Melbourne in the oppressive heat. He blew his nose loudly and again, guessing that the cold would be on him before he got his flight. The vehicle had stopped and the few people on board were clambering out, looking bewildered. Darius jumped out, knowing he could get back to the airport using the second of the free city return vouchers.. He saw the Old Gaolhouse Museum sign across the street and was near to melting as he saw the magic words 'air conditioned' on the bill board outside. He sprinted through the honking traffic and entered the dark gloomy building to be welcomed by a cheery smile of an old lady who sat with prim blouse frilled round her neck. He sneezed.

"G'day and bless you." She trilled. "It's our culture freedom day. You can put something in the charity box as you're free entry today."

Darius threw some spare coins into a slit box and although sullen in reply, he thanked her as she issued a small leaflet. His body acclimatised to the sudden chill as he wandered aimlessly round the shop and souvenir stand. The whole building echoed a distant stillness as he spoke. "Da whole plade opeh?' he wheezed his voice already thick.

"Yes, sure of course," the old lady smiled. "Not many takers for culture today though. Not many folks out on the streets I suppose, but still a bit surprising for Melly. We have far more culture than Sydney," she added proudly. "Nasty cold you have there."

Darius nodded, having encountered this fierce rivalry between the two major cities on the continent. He walked through into the vast cavernous space of the disused jail. It was certainly cool. He saw and heard no one. Gradually seeing the history of immigrant jail birds back inside amused him and he began to get immersed as he wandered the rows of cells, most of them with some display set up and historical facts about choice inmates. He climbed iron stairways in his trainers, his feet soundless and he enjoyed the gradual feeling of privacy, alone in an alien world that started to permeate through him.

Suddenly the peace was shattered by the yells and excited screams of two kids on the ground floor. He emerged from a cell displaying lurid facts about a woman who had been incarcerated for prostitution and carnal displays of horse and dingo fucking to entertain the miners in the gold fields in the north of Victoria. He had started to feel a little randy as the images flashed through his fertile brain and the lower disturbance had interrupted his happy sexual musings. Over the safety rails he watched two young women with kiddie pushchairs and two boisterous youngsters that were running around creating the most deafening row. He saw their brief altercation with the little lady on the entrance kiosk and surprisingly saw that they were allowed in.

With an annoyed shrug, he strolled back into the cell and continued reading the fact boards about one Lizzie Timmins, the bestial extrovert. His mind flitted to some intimate chats with Juliette when they had watched some amorous kangaroos in a village in New South Wales. A large Joey had unleashed it's penis and she had remarked on it's size as it hopped incongruously around a grassy area, trying to mount a female but not succeeding, much to Darius and Juliette's dismay. He had told her that the roo was the one mammal that he knew of that had it's balls in front of it's dick and she expressed her delight and surprise when noticing his correctness.

Regretting the not surprising lack of photographs of Lizzie and her bestial exploits, he sauntered onwards and realised the children's noise was getting louder. Again he peered over the rails and found they were now running at great speed round the next floor up and the one under his floor. The metal grilled walkways rattled to their steps and their voices shrieked horrendously.

He was enjoying the cool atmosphere so Darius had no intention of escaping this sanctuary of chill until suddenly he saw the boy run past the cell he was studying. He stepped outside to see the lad disappearing round a corner at the end of the walkway. He glanced down and saw who he assumed to be the mothers standing in the middle of the ground floor open space.

They were chatting and not seemingly interested in entering any of the show piece cells and displays, one of which featured the notorious folk lore bandit Ned Kelly. Darius could see that each woman had a very young child in their pushchairs. He also had clocked that the old fashioned building had no facilities for lifts or ramps so they would not be able to extend their museum tour from where they were. He did hope some official would curb the noise levels but no one seemed to appear.

Cursing the two women, but noting he was almost vertically above them, he took the opportunity of voyeuring one of them as she had a very low cut white top on and he could see quite magnificent cleavage. She looked cheap and her clothes looked cheap and he spotted the rolls of fat round her sides and back just above her waist line where her bulk was squeezed into a very tight pair of denims. Also he sneered to himself that she had a very ill fitting brassiere, judging by the humps of tit flesh trying to escape the considerable sized cups and also the way the bra carved into her sides and back. She didn't seem to be too overweight to the connoisseur of feminine form and Darius thought - yes, he would fuck her given the chance. Big tits you see.

To escape the din, he entered a cell and started to read some display cards but they didn't hold his attention. He stepped back out onto the walkway and found water dribbling down from above. He stopped just short of the flow and peered up. To Darius's amazement, the little girl was squatting and pissing. He was dumbfounded and very angry. Her urine could have ruined his Tommy Hilfiger shirt. But the child resolutely stayed down in the classic female piss position and he saw that she didn't have any knickers on. The grilled walkway, while facilitating the drainage of her discharge also allowed him full view of her crotch and he watched the gusher which seemed endless, to spout from her little slit.

Whilst annoyed, Darius would never pass up the chance to see a cunt, whatever the age he now realised, not ever having seen such a youthful example. He guessed she would be about seven or eight. So what ? It was in full view and in close up as the walkways were no more than six feet above each other. Finally her flow ceased and she stood and ran off, clattering down the walkway to the end.

The policeman shook his head in disgust at how parents brought up their kids and walked on to the next cell. This was a special one which had an inner room and a sort of cupboard. It had been a communal apparently, for three convicts and they had an interesting story. He studied the text. The din was continuing outside and he wished the women would take their fucking kids away, but he managed to digest most of the story. As he left the cell and turned onto the walkway, he was suddenly felled with a tremendous blow in the groin which near knocked him over. In pain and grimacing, clutching his painful balls, he looked down at the little girl who had run at full pelt into him. She grinned up at him rubbing her forehead which had slammed into his not inconsiderable collection of genitals. Meaning to give her a good talking to, the pain in his balls not particularly easing, he saw a red mist and grabbed her, clapped his hand over her mouth and whisked her into the cell. He carried her through to the inner room which had a door and he pushed it closed.

She was just about to cry and through anger, he saw the little curly headed blonde as the main reason for him being here in the first place. If she hadn't created the din, he wouldn't have retreated into these damn cells. He threw her on the bench. She landed heavily, slamming her head on the hard wood. She lay prone, legs askance, summer dress round her buttocks and caught tight under her still body.

Darius wondered why she didn't move and turned her head. Her eyes were open, she was breathing but she made no attempt to move. He felt down her tiny body for any obvious breakages, not wanting to move her. He reached her buttocks, feeling bare firm flesh, pale and un-Australian in it's tones. Curious, dirty minded and remembering she wore no underwear, Darius opened her cheeks and gazed at the cute little pucker of her anus. Cursing himself over his filthy mind he let her buttocks gently kiss together again, but he rubbed his cock which had sent some signals to his brain. He was half hard. He again felt her pulse, it was OK, she seemed peaceful. Ready to sort her clothing and call for an attendant, he changed his mind and decided on one last peep at her pussy. It would be catalogued with all the other pussies he had seen, licked and fucked, but this would be put in a special category.

Turning her over, Darius lifted her dress, a pretty pink and white polka dotted one with white lace edging, but he did notice how grubby it was. Her trainers were extremely dirty too. He opened her legs and gazed with guilty pleasure on the tight virginal little cut in a peachy pink mound. He automatically rubbed his cock as her friend or even brother clattered by somewhere in the depths of the building. Again his red mist descended and Darius blamed the child for all the things that had gone wrong in the day.

Juliette's period starting in the very early morning. It was so heavy - giving her a tremendous headache and lumpy feeling that she didn't even feel like an anal diversion which she adored as much as cuntal sex. The argument with the hotel about his bar bill. the flight delay, the heat, the shuttle bus breakdown and his lack of cash in an unknown situation and then when he found sanctuary this kid, this noisy impudent, dirty, pissing kid had fucked that up too. His cock ached and he hefted it out. The dark menacing thick shaft topped by a glistening pink knob oozed copious amounts of his lubrication.

Without caring over the ethics of his actions, Darius fingered the kid's pussy - liking it's softness, it's squishy opening when he pressed into it.

He picked her up bodily, like a rag doll, the folds of her dress gathered under his huge hands round her waist. She was so light, like a matchstick doll in his big mitts. He stared at the beckoning sex of yet another female wanting his virility and his seed. The rich Afro Caribbean seed the white women ached to suck out of him. Intending to rub it against the girl's cunt and wank it to a climax, Darius pulled her crotch onto him as he stood, back arched against the inner wall, He nudged his domed cock knob against the puffy vee of the girl's vagina and then pushed just to see how far it would go, for curiosity's sake. About half an inch sank into the slight orifice, which didn't seem much to him. The sides of her pouch bulged grotesquely as he pushed a little more, but she wouldn't let him enter.

Surely she could take more than that. He thrust his torso forward sharply and pulled her limp body onto his prick. There was massive resistance, but not enough to deter his curious mind and then suddenly his cock sliced into her and blood oozed round his penetration. For a second, Darius stopped to weigh up the consequences.

There was no one around - with her impaled on his shaft, one hand under her rag doll like body, he stalked into the outer cell and listened. He could hear the two women chattering way below and the boy running round a distant corridor. No staff seemed to be around.

Confidently making his plans, Darius re-entered the inner room and kicked the door closed. He pushed the cupboard door and saw it was empty and roomy, enough for a little frame such as that mounted on his magnificent manhood. He was in control once more, but on a different level, another planetary force had intercepted his stars for the day and confused them with the levels he had existed on for three weeks with the lovely Juliette.

He needed to fuck.

He slammed his crotch at the child and felt the tension as his thick shaft tore into her small orifice. God! It was tight, he pondered. It's wonderfully tight and look I've got six inches in, he mused. He started to pull and thrust, ignoring the profuse bleeding and the torn ends of inner membrane that clung to his glossy brown cock as it exited before pushing in once more. Then it occurred to him that the mess would not look good on his jeans, so he lowered them completely with his shorts until they crumpled round his Reebock trainers.

Darius fucked hard, as hard as he had over the last three weeks, reliving the anal, the cunnilingus, the fellatio, Juliette's experiments in fucking his arse with various objects, their mutual pissing on each other both indoors and outdoors and the hundred and one positions they had joined as one in lust.

The kid's body rocked and shook in his grip, her head lolling, mouth wide open, eyes open, arms hanging limp. He could see the imprint of his cock scraping the inside of her belly as he rammed until he came. The intensity of his cum was such that he had to bite his lip to stop shouting loudly as he usually did on climaxing. The strain at his mouth was incredible but soon outweighed by the sensation of pleasure in giving up his verdant sperm. Power in his prick and hundreds of seeds to give, he pumped at the kid until empty. The white cream started to squelch from her cunt, oozing round his rapidly deflating shaft, discolouring the dark brown glistening muscle.

Crudely he pulled out of her and glanced at the mess of her Barbie Doll snatch. He put her down, still in concussion and knelt to wipe his dick on her dress. Satisfied it wouldn't stain his clothes, he dressed calmly and swiftly. He glanced at her face and was concerned that her lips were almost blue. He felt for a pulse and couldn't find one. He tried another spot and still no sign of life. Fuck! She's fucking died on me. Must have been that knock on her head or my dick, he pondered. Got to be careful whatever I do. He swept her up and bundled her into the cupboard. The door with it's ancient history helped him in that it was distorted. He had to force it closed.

After glancing round the room checking he left nothing, he ventured quietly into the outer cell and listened. The women were incredibly still chatting way below although he couldn't see the young boy. Then he glanced along the corridor and landings. His chance came as right at the opposite end to his access down and exit point was the lady attendant who seemed to be showing the child something in a cell. He stepped gingerly onto the steel landing and peered down to the front door. No staff were visible.

He padded along, keeping close to the walls lining the landing. No other tourists had ventured in to escape the oppressive heat. Darius glided effortlessly down the stairs and cut behind some display cards which shielded him from the main body of the edifice. There was no one in the shop and no one outside. Suddenly he was grateful for the heat keeping people off the streets.

Voices suddenly echoed from within.

"Mylene...Mylene. Brucie, have you seen Mylene?" came the uncouth, more annoyed than concerned screech.

He stepped into the burning sun pulling his baseball cap from his back pocket, placing it on his head and walking calmly round a corner. Two blocks away he found a bus stop. Ten minutes later he was on board and using his voucher.

He got to the airport, with heart pounding. The Cypriot bus driver asked no questions and didn't chat which was unusual as the burly black copper was the only passenger. Darius did not prompt him. After he alighted he saw the bus pull into a rest bay and the driver promptly pushed his seat back and went to sleep.

As he boarded his connecting flight in Singapore and settled comfortably for the final leg to Heathrow, the Melbourne police were studying CCTV tapes. The mysterious, bearded, handsome, well dressed black guy appeared but only briefly and not very clearly.

*********

"And nothing to this day?" asked Northgate as the two policemen checked out of the station.

"Nah! Why should there be," chuckled Darius. "Where would they start looking."

'Wasn't really murder either was it," giggled his pal.

"No she banged her head. Simple as that. Which pub are we going to first. The Black Bull or the Walkabout?"

FIN