Chapter 7
Laura and Sally had been warned. Officers from the vice-squad, undercover cops, people in city hall, and even people from the streets had told them it would not pay off for them to do too good a job cleaning up Fleet Street. '
Oh, they should make an effort; there should be something in the papers about a "crack-down," but they had damn well better not step on the wrong toes. What did they care if the mayor and the D.A. were reelected. There wasn't anything in it for them. And they were risking quite a lot if they actually decided to go ahead and clean up the street. Really go ahead and put a lot of people in jail.
Laura and Sally had a long talk about this. They knew that they were being used by city hall and they knew the risks they were running. But they were also aware of something else. They were the first two lady cops in the city. They were the only two lady cops. They had something to prove; they had to show that they were tougher, stronger, and could do a better job than the men cops. They weren't going to shirk from their duties.
Officer Jim Barchin met with them early Monday afternoon to give a briefing on the current situation down on Fleet Street. They all shuffled down the same dingy, neon lit street to the same dingy conference room they had used before. Barchin's uniform, as usual, looked like he'd spent the night in it.
He lit one of his ever-present cigarettes, pulled a sheet of paper out of a folder and looked good-humoredly at the two of them.
"Congratulations on your bust the other night in Rolfe Park."
"Well, thanks," said Laura, "but, uh, Sally here did most of the work."
He looked at Sally with renewed respect. "Well, all I got to say is that that mother had everything you dished out coming to him. He'd literally been terrorizing that hospital for the last two months. We think he's the guy who murdered that Puerto Rican lab technician last month. It was the same M.O.; first he cut up the uniform, fuck-uh, forced himself on the girl, and then cut her up. If you two hadn't arrived on the scene, God knows what would have happened."
'Thanks," grunted Sally. She didn't work for praise and it didn't really matter if she received it or not. She was just a cop doing her job.
"One thing, though," Barchin continued, "you gotta be careful when you, uh, administer justice out in the street-like I have a suspicion you did in the park there that night. That poor clown is going to be in the hospital for a month or more and there's a big question as to whether or not he'll ever be able to get a hard-on or not. Somehow, maybe he tripped and fell, his nuts got crushed. Poor guy. But you see," and here he was looking at Sally, "if this guy was connected, and lucky that he isn't, if this guy had some good friends in high places or even money to buy a good lawyer, you could find yourself in a whole lot of trouble."
Neither of the girls said a word. They were not at all sorry for what happened in the park that night. They would continue to do their job the way they saw fit.
Barchin was still pissed off at Laura, but he tried not to show it-and he was trying real hard not to look at those luscious breasts, soft and round under her brown uniform shirt. She called him on it last time, and he grudgingly admitted that she was right. But fuck it all, he was a man and she was a woman and that was the bottom line. How the fuck did she want him to act-Christ, no woman had a right to look that good, even if she was a cop.
He knew that her husband hadn't been around for over six months now. She had to be hungry for some cock-unless she was getting it elsewhere. He wondered what would happen if, after the meeting, he made a point of talking to her alone, really apologizing for his lewd and lascivious stares and then asking her out. What the fuck, he thought, she might say yes. God, she'd be a fine piece.
Officer Barchin tried to stifle his fantasies concerning Laura and get his mind back on the work. He looked down the sheet of paper that sat there on the table in front of him.
"Uh, getting back to the problem of Fleet Street, I've gotten the word that the people upstairs want to see some results by the end of next week. KXTV is filming some footage this week as a kind of 'before' picture-next week when they film that street the mayor wants it to look like Main Street Disneyland. You get the picture? So, what do you ladies think might be an appropriate sort of action here?"
Laura spoke first. "I think we should plan a sweep of the street. Get a bunch of undercover officers, be sure they use their own cars, and arrest as many of them as we can.
"We'll pack the jails full. And if they get out the next night, we'll do it again."
Barchin looked a little uncomfortable. "You know," he began, "that we never have any real sweeps of the hookers down there. What we do is get the word out so that certain friends of certain people can get their girls off the street and then we go down and arrest a couple of independents, just for form's sake."
"And that's exactly why we've got the problem we do," responded Laura. "I suspect that certain someone you're talking about is Desdemona Valentine. Well, I want to bust her and I want to bust her on. From what I understand, she thinks she's somehow above the law, that she almost runs this city. If they want Ms. Valentine handled with kid gloves, then they gave the job to the wrong person. They want that street cleaned up, then they are going to get it cleaned up. And Ms. Desdemona Valentine is going to go down."
"Are you sure you're not biting off more than you want to chew?" asked Barchin.
"I guess we're going to find out," replied Laura.
As the left the room, Barchin said, "Officer Davis, would you stay for a second?" Sally looked questioningly at Laura, but Laura waved her out.
"Yes?" asked Laura.
"Well, I just wanted to apologize for my behavior during the last meeting. I guess that sometimes I'm not the classiest guy in the world and when I'm with a beautiful woman, and I do think you are, well, I can't keep myself from looking. And so, well, uh, I just wanted to apologize for being an asshole, I guess."
Laura was used to being looked at. Men had looked at her all her life. The reason she had gotten so upset with Jim at the previous meeting was that he had been ogling her when she was at work, he had been ogling her when she was wearing the uniform of the City of St. Louis. It'd been a long hard climb for her to garner any respect whatsoever as a police officer and she wasn't about to sacrifice any of that because some guy got his jollies by staring at her breasts.
"I accept your apology, Jim. You see, for me what's most important is being a good police officer. When I'm on the job that's all I want to think about. When I put on this uniform I want to be considered a police officer first and a woman second."
"What about when you're not at work?" Jim asked.
"What do you mean?"
Jim seemed a little nervous and had trouble getting the words out. "Well, I was just wondering if sometime, after work, you'd like to get together.. . . "
Laura was incredulous. "What?"
"I was wondering if you'd like to go out sometime."
Laura's eyes grew steely and hard. "Are you aware that I'm married?"
"Uh, well, yeah . . . but I heard that your husband has been gone for a long time and might be dead or something and I thought, well, you know, that you might be lonely and might want to go out and-"
Laura interrupted him. "Officer Barchin, I'll have you know that I am a married woman. Please remember that fact. Always. And while I am here, I am a police officer. One of your brothers." With that she spun on her heel and walked out the door.
Laura didn't see Jim's face turn a bright red with anger and embarrassment. She was out the door by the time he started cussing to himself in a low voice. Goddam her! He thought. Goddam cunt! He couldn't help himself, even as he watched her leave, his eyes were right on her ass as it swayed from side to side on out the door. He was obsessed with her and couldn't get her out of his mind: All he wanted was to fuck her and fuck her in every way imaginable. Goddam her!
He didn't know what it was about her that got him Wing so. First off she was a foxy lady. Real foxy, but classy at the same time. But there were other foxy ladies around and they didn't affect him like Laura did. There were secretary's who worked at the police station that were good looking and they didn't affect him like she did. He searched his mind for answers, the thing had really got him bugged. Normally, Jim Barchin wouldn't think twice about some bitch that put him down like that. He didn't need that kind of shit in his life. He could live very happily without it.
But there was something about Laura. And then it dawned on him. It was her uniform, her power, and her gun. He had never known a woman in his life that packed a .38 pistol on her belt. And the belt was wide and made of thick, shiny, black leather. And there were handcuffs hanging from that belt and that belt was stuffed with extra bullets. And her nightstick hanging from her side.
Officer Barchin looked at Officer Davis. What was different about her'. '
Oh, Christ! Now he knew what it was. Now he knew what was different about Officer Laura Davis. like him, she carried death on her hip. She was powerful-out on the street she was God. And she was a beautiful woman on top of all of that.
Shit . . . he felt that his cock was hard as a diamond inside his official blue uniform pants. He couldn't get her out of his thoughts. He saw her ass, her breasts, her full lips that just needed some cock shoved down there. That begged to have some cock shoved in. He saw her gun hanging from her side, all steely and blue, the trigger glinting in the light. He saw her standing naked, facing him, her cunt hair soft and furry and blonde and she was wearing her leather belt. And she was wearing black boots and smiling at him.
He couldn't take it any longer. He hustled down to the bathroom at the end of the hall, looked to see that there was no one else there and then locked himself in the last booth. He pulled his pants down, sat on the seat and grabbed his dick.
And he began to think of Laura and what he wanted to do to her. He took some saliva from his mouth and rubbed it all over the swollen, purple head of his cock.
He tried imagining where she lived and saw an apartment on the first floor of a building. It was night time and he was sneaking along very quietly. He crouched behind the bushes under the dining room window. He reached up and unhooked the screen, taking it down very gently. Next he tried the window and found that it was locked. No problem. By pressing just right on the latch, he was able to spring it and slide the glass open.
With one smooth movement he lifted himself up and through the open window. All the lights were off and he landed softly on the thick fuck carpet. No dog. That was good.
He stayed motionless for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the dark. Soon the black became gray and he was able to make out the shapes of the table and chairs and the hallway door.
He moved toward it without making a sound. He knew what he wanted; he just had to find it. He walked down the hall to the first door. It was shut. He put his hand on the knob, turning it slowly, at the same time holding it tight against the frame so it wouldn't spring open with a lot of noise or squeak. He turned the handle all the way and then slowly, gently opened it. He pushed his head into the room and could make out the form of a bed against the wall. He tiptoed in. The bed was empty. Wrong room.
He walked back out to the hallway, his heart pounding and adrenalin flowing. He had to be quiet. He couldn't risk waking her up before it was time. She had to be asleep when he found her.
He walked to the next room and found that the door was only half shut. There was a dim glow in the corner by the floor from a tiny nightlight. But it was plenty light enough for him to see inside.
Laura was lying in a small, single bed, the blankets drawn all up around her neck. Her blonde hair was hanging free and spread out all over her white pillow. She looked like a sleeping angel.
Jim moved stealthily into the room, but didn't go straight to her bed. He stopped at her dresser, working hard to control his breathing-every breath sounded to him like a hurricane roaring through the room.
He opened the top drawer of the dresser. It was filled with letters and knick-knacks and jewelry. He gently shut it.
He opened the drawer beneath it and found what he was looking for. Her brassieres were just like he thought they'd be-delicate, lacy and feminine. He picked one up and felt the material as he ran it through his fingers. It was so soft, so womanly . . . He pulled a pair of her panties from the neatly folded stack in the drawer. They were of red silk and so smooth . . . He brought them close to his face, examining the black lace trim, The cool black looked so good against the deep red silk. He ran it across his face, feeling the slick smoothness and the soft texture. He ran it over his nose, smelling it, searching for odors. It smelled fresh, of distant soap and soft lemon. He dropped it back in the drawer.
As he came up to the bed, his excitement grew. She was sleeping deeply, not tossing and turning at all. He knelt down next to the bed and looked at her face swimming in the blonde hair. She was so beautiful.
He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead and she didn't move. Good. Real good. He gingerly took hold of the end of the blanket and began to pull it down. He got it past her bare shoulder and then down to her breasts. He could just see their soft, white curve. No bra! He couldn't believe his luck. He pulled it down further and then gasped with pleasure when they were completely revealed.
Her breasts seemed so naked, so vulnerable in the soft light of the room. She was sleeping on her back and they were rising and falling with each of her deep breaths. They were stunningly white and full and topped perfectly by her round nipples.
He reached his hand out and gently brushed it against her breast. She stirred a little in her sleep, but not too much. He rested his hand lightly on her breast. He squeezed the milky flesh between his fingers. He ran a finger up and around her rosy nipple and it hardened even in her sleep.
He stifled a moan deep within him as he took that nipple in his mouth and began to suck. But gently, so gently. He could feel the warmth rising up from under her blankets and he could smell the freshness of her linen.
He slowly pulled the blankets and the top sheet down further, and didn't stop until they were all the way off her body. He stopped for a second and just looked at her as she lay there flat on her back, fast asleep. She looked so innocent, so helpless . . . All she was wearing was a thin pair of white, nylon bikini briefs. Her legs were pressed tightly together.
He gently sat down on the edge of the bed, careful not to jar it too badly and risk waking her. He could see the vee of her pubic area under the sheer material of her pants. He lightly rested his hand on top and when she didn't move, began to gently rub her cunt. Sliding a finger under the elastic band on the top, he let his hand explore her fleecy curls-moving slowly and watching her carefully at all times. She was deep in her sleep and didn't seem to take any notice at all of what he was doing. He kissed and sucked her breast some more while his hand went even further down into her sleeping pussy. His fingers found the top of her and tenderly pushed her labial lips apart. Her pussy, in her sleep, was bone dry. He brought his hand up to his mouth and took some warm saliva down to it. He spread it up and down her slit, getting it moist and juicy. He loved sucking on her breast, feeling its warmth and softness in his mouth and how full and ripe it seemed.
His hand went even farther down, spreading her legs slightly. He inserted his forefinger into her vagina. That was dry too, but as he worked it in and out and deeper, it began growing slippery and hot.
He hooked both his thumbs around the elastic band of her panties and began to roll them off the full flesh of her hips. He lifted her buttocks slightly and pulled them down farther until they were around her knees. He stopped for a second and bent down to kiss her cunt. The curly hairs felt good against his lips. She smelled fresh and clean and good.
He pulled the panties all the way off and then spread her legs wide, pushing the legs up and bending the knees at the same time to give him better access to her love hole. He pulled his own pants down and knelt between her thighs, holding his thick meat in one hand. He wondered if he'd actually be able to fuck her without waking her up, would he be able to slide his cock deep in her cunt without arousing her.
He supported himself with stiff arms on both sides of her and then pushed his thick, purple cock-head up against her blonde fleecy curls and then against the gates of her cleft.
She groaned a little and turned her head to the side as he pushed the cock-head into her cunt. He stopped then, waiting for her to slip back into a deeper sleep. He was working as hard as a yogi to control his breathing, taking quick, short, shallow breaths. He pushed a little farther, feeling his meat slide between her tight, smooth pussy walls. He shoved it all the way in to the hilt, but slowly, very slowly, until he could feel his bloated testicles slap against her pink anus.
It felt so good, it felt so good just to have his cock deep inside her pussy, just to be all the way into her love hole. And especially good because she didn't know it-she went to bed that night, maybe read a little of the tepid romance book that still lay open on her night-stand and had no idea that she would be ravished while she slept. She had no idea that while she was dreaming sweetly, someone would break into her house, sneak into her bedroom, pull her blankets off, strip her nude and then violate her most private parts.
He was fucking her now and there was nothing she could do about it. Jim Barchin was deep into Laura Davis' juicy pussy, her hot love box, her beautiful blonde slit, and she couldn't do a thing about it. He made a slow curve with his ass, moving his meat deep within her.
And then he began to slide slowly out, enjoying the hot sensations of her sweet box every inch of the way, feeling her cunt and her juices and her heat. When he had his meat almost all the way out, when he could just feel the cock-head at the beginning of her vagina, he slid it back in, but this time harder.
She moved a little in her sleep, but he no longer cared. She could do what she wanted to now and it didn't make any difference-he was fucking her now and he was going to fuck the shit out of her.
He started pumping in and out of her as she lay there sleeping, shoving his cock all the way in and pushing her against the mattress. She was still asleep, but she began to respond anyway. When he pushed down he felt her push back up against him. Yes-it felt so good; the bitches are made for fucking. They even respond to it when they're asleep.
He was fucking her hard now and didn't care whether she woke up or not. Though still sleeping, she was grunting and groaning every time he slammed it home to her, every time he drove his skewering thickness all the back walls of her womb. She even spread her legs farther so he could get in deeper. He began sucking and lapping at one of her breasts and feeling the other up with his hand.
He felt his asshole began to twitch and felt his desire and the sperm boiling deep in his loins. He knew he'd be coming and he knew it would be any second.
She started talking, low at first, "Wha . . . unnhh, unhhh, what is . . . unnHHHH!! OH!! OHHH O God, O GOD!! ! Mmmmmmphhh!! What, what ARE YOU DOING!! ! WHO ARE YOU!! ! ! ! GET OFF!! ! GET OFF ME!! ! ! HELP!! ! HELP!! ! "
He knew he was coming and slid his throbbing gristle all the way out and shot load after load of hot, creamy, thick sperm all the way up her stomach, over her breasts, and finally onto her face.
She was screaming by now. He slapped her once, hard across the face, and she immediately shut up. He quickly got dressed, slipped out of her room, padded down the hallway to the dining room and climbed out the window. He disappeared into the night as mysteriously as he arrived.
Jim sat breathing heavily in the last booth of the station house restroom, his cock in his hand and cum all over the place. He wiped himself off with toilet paper, pulled up his pants, fastened his gun belt and left the room.
Someday, he thought, I'm really going to fuck Laura Davis. Someday, I just won't be jerking off to the thought of her.