...ed. Talk about problems... ghseez!
More formidably, it was now that Wiggum had his own release. Right up in her ass he emptied his load, and Marge shrieked from the thrill of it. Her new persona melted at the thought of what had just happened; she loved the thought of cum settling inside her, just like Flanders' had not so long ago.
"Be on your way, m'am," Wiggum said courteously, lifting himself up with a struggle and a grunt.
"Thanks again, Chief. I'm so glad the force looks out for me," she gave him a smile.
"Extra hard for you, Simpson," Wiggum said fitting his pants and belt back on; "If you know what I mean," he chuckled the pig-like way only Wiggum does. The pair shared a polite, "good-doing-business" smile before parting separate ways to their steering wheels. Comic Book Guy was nowhere to be seen and thankfully so. Poor fella was probably embarrassed, but there was no way Marge would spend any more time with someone like that. Two seconds in and he shoots -- and probably shooting blanks, too, the strings were that damn flimsy!
Marge started her engine and drove the minute or two to Moe's. She pulled up on the road's side, behind Homer's pink sedan, turned her own off, and stepped out. Patting the creases out of her dress (having been extra busy tonight) she headed inside the tavern. Carl, Lenny and Homer we...