Everybody in town loves the Sheriff–which is pretty rare, even he admits that. He knows everyone in town, and has a habit of dropping in on families unexpectedly, like he did with the Robinson’s just last week. It was late–after dinner, and Mr. Robinson was enjoying a bit of whiskey, when the door opened (everyone left their doors unlocked, in case the sheriff wanted to stop by) and he said hello to Mr. Robinson, and then found the Misses getting dessert ready in the kitchen.
“Betty,” he said, stroking her cheek with a gloved hand, “Be a doll and skip dessert at home tonight. Why don’t you take the kids out for ice cream? And don’t come home until I call and tell you to.”
“Yes sheriff, of course!” Mrs. Robinson said, and bundled up the kids and left the sheriff alone with her husband.
Mr. Robinson wasn’t the healthiest of men, but then again, all of the men in the town had started packing on weight since the sheriff came to town. The Sheriff walked into the living room and started running his gloves over Mr. Robinson’s body. “Strip down, I want to see those fat rolls of yours, Mr. Robinson–and then we’re going to eat that whole cake your wife just baked. After that, I’m going to plow that fat ass of yours all night–how does that sound?”
“Sounds fucking hot, Sheriff, I can’t fucking wait,” Mr. Robinson said, moaning as the Sheriff rubbed his hard cock, and stuck one of his gloved hands into the citizen’s drooling mouth.