"I have a job for you, Kate." the man behind the desk said.

Lieutenant Katherine O'Donnell shifted uncomfortably, "Why the hell don't you get more comfortable chairs Captain. What's the job?"

She was well aware that Joe Hammond was leaning forward to get a better view as she twisted uncomfortably in the hard wooden chair. What the hell? Fifty years old and divorced, he deserved some excitement. She rewarded him with a brief glimpse of powder blue panties and the whispering sound of sheer nylon as she crossed her long legs.

His voice was husky as he answered. "You know Rochelle's Boutique on Fifth Avenue?"

"I've seen it, but I've never gone in. On a cop's salary I couldn't even afford to buy a bra in there."

Mention of a bra caused her precinct commander's eyes to drift down over her tight sweater. "Yeah," he muttered. "A really fancy joint. Its customers are mainly the country club crowd, yet they have quite a lot of shoplifting."

"That's not so unusual." She was currently studying criminal psychology for her master's degree. "A lot of rich women are in to shoplifting. After all, kleptomania is a disease that can afflict anyone, whatever their financial position. In any case, what does it have to do with us? The uniforms normally handle that stuff."

"True, but there are whispers on the street that the owner and his store detective have been blackmailing some of their customers. In return for not pressing charges, they demand sexual favors. There haven't been any direct complaints. They probably choose their victims carefully, women with influential husbands who would do anything to avoid the shame of prosecution."

"What do we know about these guys?"

"The owner is Henry Rochelle. No prior record although there have been a couple of unresolved sexual harassment complaints from female employees. The store detective, Jack Simpson, is something else. He's ex-army, Special Forces. He was court-martialed and dishonorably discharged for insubordination.

He also has a couple of nasty assault convictions. A mean dangerous guy."

"I guess you want me to go in and steal something, see what happens?"

"Well, yeah, but you'll have to build up to it. You need a cover they can check on. Something that will convince them you're vulnerable to that kind of blackmail. I'll get Sgt. Rodriguez to set something up for you. He'll give you a story and the necessary documents"

Kate nodded as she gratefully eased her five-feet ten inches out of the hard chair. Heading for the door, she could feel Joe Hammond's eyes on her and couldn't resist exaggerating the swing of her hips. She was well aware of the impact on the old lech as he watched her gluteus muscles rippling under the clinging silk skirt.

It was a month later when she again sat opposite Joe Hammond. "How's it going, Kate?"

"Good. I think I've pretty well established myself. I've bought a couple of dresses in the last couple of weeks and they've had plenty of time to check on my cover story. By now they should know I'm the wife of a bank president, and that I have a prior conviction for shoplifting."

"Do you think they've taken the bait?"

"The second time I went in, Rochelle introduced himself. I had the feeling he had checked and knew my background. Otherwise, why did he take such a personal interest? I think they're just waiting for me to make a move."

"OK, I talked to some of the uniforms who have been in the store. They say it's tied up tighter than Fort Knox with hidden security cameras everywhere. They even have them behind the mirrors in the fitting rooms."

She felt a hot wave of embarrassment wash over her as she remembered stripping off in front of one of these mirrors while trying on dresses and underwear. Shit, she thought. These slimy bastards have been ogling me. "That's illegal. If we knew about it why didn't we stop it?"

She could see from the reflective look on his face that Joe Hammond knew why she was perturbed. No doubt the old rake was pissed because strangers had been able to see more of her body than he ever would. There was a faint smile on his face as he replied, "You're right. But you know we often turn a blind eye to things like that if it helps catch the bad guys. Anyway, what did you think of Rochelle, and did you see the store detective?"

"You were right about Rochelle. He's really smooth and some women are attracted to slime balls like that." In fact, she had found Henry Rochelle to be a lot more attractive than she was prepared to admit. A perfectly proportioned six foot four two hundred and twenty pound body gave him an overpowering physical presence. When he turned on the charm and showed those perfect white teeth set in bronzed classical features, it was difficult for a woman to remain unaffected. She had kept reminding herself that this man was probably guilty of several crimes including rape."I think I saw the store detective hanging about," Kate continued. "A huge bear like man. About six-eight and wide as a barn door."

"That's him. A very dangerous customer. You're going to need help on this case. I've briefed Jenner and Bronson. They'll back you."

"O, Christ, not them." She couldn't stand the two sergeants named by Hammond. "I've had nothing but trouble from those two since I was promoted. They think I got ahead of them because I'm a woman and they don't even try to hide their contempt for me." She shuddered as she recollected the constant jibes and sexual innuendos.

"I'm sorry, Kate but they are the best we have. Don't worry I'll have a word with them. I think I can promise they'll behave themselves from now on."

"OK," Kate reluctantly agreed as she rose to her feet. "If it was just Rochelle I could handle him by myself."

From the way he looked at her beautifully proportioned one hundred and fifty pound body it was clear that Joe Hammond had little doubt about her ability to beat the crap out of most men. "Yeah, I'm sure you can, but watch out for Simpson. He's a trained killer and could be a real handful even for the three of you."

Still thinking of having to work with the two intractable sergeants, she tossed her thick shoulder length black hair and there was a slight sneer on her patrician features as she turned to leave. She didn't forget, however, to roll her ass for the old man. It improved her humor to think of the frustration she was causing him. His lust was such a palpable thing that she could almost feel his large gnarled hands going under her skirt and sliding up her stockinged legs.

Two days later Kate, accompanied by sergeants Jenner and Bronson, sat in an unmarked car a block away from Rochelle's Boutique. She was giving them a last minute briefing. Having in mind the condescending way she had been treated in the past by these jerks, her tone was cold and officious.

"Now we're pretty sure that the back room where they take shoplifting suspects is sound proofed. So we'll have to rely on the alarm." Kate was referring to a radio activated device that had been issued to them. All she had to do was press the button on top of a special pen she carried and it would sound a signal in a small receiver carried by Sergeant Jenner. "When I signal," she continued, "Come running. It will mean they've sprung their blackmail threat. Mind you," she couldn't resist a sneer, "I would probably be better off without you two."

"Yes ma'am," said Bronson with uncharacteristic politeness. "You can count on us. We won't let you down."

Snorting her skepticism, she left the car. Heading for the store she saw, out of the corner of her eye, Jenner's upraised finger and heard the hissed- "Pompous bitch."

When she entered the boutique she was startled to hear someone calling her cover name, "Good afternoon Mrs. Johnson. How are we today?" It was Henry Rochelle, the owner, walking toward her, with hand outstretched.

Despite her training and experience it was difficult to remain totally cool as Rochelle accompanied her among the racks of clothing. Standing so close that he constantly brushed against her, he would sensually finger flimsy nylon and satin underwear and offer suggestions about what she should try. He was completely uninhibited in speaking about the relative merits of various garments and how they might suit her.

"Now here's a very lovely item that would really enhance your beautiful creamy skin texture." He was holding up a pair of green satin panties and a matching bra. Reaching out with his free hand he gently brushed his fingers over her hand and wrist, causing goose bumps and she shivered involuntarily.

"Just imagine how these would feel against your skin. Why, your husband wouldn't be able to keep his hands off you if you wore these." And a moment later,

"Of course, you would drive him absolutely nuts if you also wore this" He was holding up a green satin garter belt in one hand and a pair of sheer nylon stockings in the other.

By the time she finally escaped to a fitting room with a number of dresses, panties and bras, her skin felt hot and she was blushing like a schoolgirl. As she entered the small room and closed the curtain behind her she saw Rochelle scurrying toward the back room. Her searching eyes also observed the enormous figure of Jack Simpson, the store detective, moving in the same direction. Going to watch the cameras, she thought.

Standing before the full length mirror, she experienced mixed emotions. There was both anger and embarrassment in knowing she was being watched. At the same time there was an erotic piquancy in the situation. Proud of the body she kept in excellent shape with daily exercise, she reluctantly admitted to herself that she got a buzz out of knowing the men would be watching and lusting after her. In any event, if they followed up as expected, they would soon be in custody, paying a heavy price for their impertinence.

"Enjoy it, assholes," she thought as she began to undress. Taking off her light spring coat she hung it on a hook, kicked off her black high-heeled pumps and removed every stitch of her clothing. Then she sensuously drew the flimsy nylon stockings up her legs and fastened them to the garter belt. She selected the matching set of lime green satin panties and bra. With lingering hand movements she smoothed the clinging material over her curves while slowly pirouetting before the mirror. "How does that look, scumbags? Eat your hearts out."

Then, making sure she was not obscuring the camera behind the mirror, she pinned two dresses and some underwear into the inside of her coat with safety-pins. Still wearing the new underwear, she stepped into her own green silk flared skirt and white short sleeved blouse. Donning her coat, she left the booth carrying one of the new bras. Holding it up, she smiled sweetly at Rochelle who was back outside the fitting room. "I'll just take this today."

Henry Rochelle was impeccably polite as he placed the bra in a small bag and charged the cost to Kate's fake Master Card. "I hope we will see you again soon, Mrs. Johnson."

As she reached the front door, she found it blocked by the huge bulk of Jack Simpson. "I am going to have to ask you to come to the office with me, Mrs. Johnson." His tone was polite but left no doubt about his determination.

Kate made a few token protests but, with his big paw under her elbow, she allowed him to propel her to the back office. As they entered, Simpson kicked the heavy door closed behind them. Rochelle was already there.

She scanned the large office with professional eyes. One side of the room was occupied by a large, unencumbered, mahogany desk. Two deep leather chairs were placed before the desk and a seven foot long matching sofa was against the left wall. On the opposite wall were several TV screens and a door into what she supposed would be a bathroom. The entire floor was covered in thick piled red carpeting.

Rochelle's voice was cold and sharp, "I'm very disappointed in you Mrs. Johnson. What will your husband say when he hears you have been stealing dresses?"

Playing the part expected of her, she assumed her most haughty expression and exclaimed, "How dare you accuse me of stealing. You will be hearing from my lawyers about this."

Simpson snorted contemptuously and Rochelle smiled coldly, "Come now, Mrs. Johnson. If you cooperate, then maybe we can come to an arrangement if you insist on continuing with this charade, we will have to call the police. Now, please take off your coat."

Acting like the spoiled wife of a bank president, about to be caught in the act of shoplifting, her shoulders slumped resignedly. "Please let me pay for the things," she pleaded. "My husband doesn't have to know, does he?" Slowly she took off her coat and Simpson, who was standing behind her, took it from her, saying "What about the underwear, boss?"

Rochelle chuckled mirthlessly, "Whether we keep this to ourselves, Mrs. Johnson, is going to depend on your degree of cooperation." Then looking at Simpson he continued, "Yes, Jake we need the underwear. Why don't you take it off her?"

Having already removed the special pen from her bag and, feeling Simpson's hands on her shoulders, she pressed the spring loaded top of the pen and held it down for several seconds. It hadn't occurred to her that they would attack without any preliminaries. She had been expecting a verbal proposition; if you want us to drop the charges you will have to submit, but it seemed they were not about to ask her permission. Things were developing too quickly.

Thank god her men would be in soon. Simpson's grip was tightening and it was clear he was going to try and carry out his instructions. Dipping her body as she had been taught in the academy, she spun and aimed a raking kick at Simpson's groin. Had it landed they would have needed an ambulance to get him out of there. As he turned slightly and deflected the force of her kick, she recalled that this man had received training far more extensive than anything known to most Police Academy instructors.

Feeling the first tremor of fear, she fervently prayed for the arrival of her two sergeants. Simpson moved with surprising speed for someone of his bulk. Before she could attempt any further kicks or blows, he had moved in close. He wrapped his massive arms around her, pinning her arms to her sides, and effortlessly heaved her from her feet. The special pen and her pocket book dropped unnoticed to the floor.

It was shocking that, despite her height and weight, Simpson was holding her in his arms with her feet dangling as though she were a rag doll. Flailing her legs, she dislodged her kidskin pumps which fell silently to the thickly carpeted floor. Her desperate kicks were landing ineffectively on the hard muscular legs of her assailant. Face to face she felt his hot breath on her cheek as he chuckled at her feeble attempts to escape. Her size and strength combined with the academy training had given her an arrogant confidence in her own ability that was being rudely shattered by Simpson's great strength. What the hell had happened to those two asshole sergeants? They must have heard the alarm and should have been here by now. Expecting that help would arrive at any moment, it hadn't yet occurred to her to announce that she was a police officer.

Simpson had carried her struggling figure over to the big desk where he now pressed her against the edge, effectively pinning her legs. Rochelle was taking something from one of the desk drawers. It was a filled syringe.

"I'm a police officer," she screamed. "You are both under arrest." It sounded ridiculous, even to her, and the two men laughed uproariously. Ironically, the department had done too good a job on her cover. Her assailants were totally convinced she was the spoiled wife of a rich banker and her claim to be a police officer was pathetically ludicrous.

Helpless in Simpson's powerful arms, she could do no more than protest loudly as Rochelle moved in behind her, jabbed the syringe into a bare arm and depressed the plunger. "Just a little something to lessen the shock and heighten the pleasure, Mrs. Johnson," smirked Rochelle. I know you aren't used to big rough men like us. We have to introduce you slowly to the idea of being serviced by full size dongs instead of the little swizzle sticks that bank presidents have between their legs."

Whatever had been in that syringe acted fast. Almost immediately a, not unpleasant, languor spread through her body, numbing her limbs and will to resist. Convinced that the two sergeants had deliberately left her in this fix, she was coming to the realization that there was no help on the way. In any case, as the drug began to take effect, her anxieties seemed to be dissolving, to be unimportant. Simpson had moved away from the desk, still holding her dangling body before him.

"This isn't Mrs. Johnson, boss. Remember, it's a police officer." Breasts flattened against his huge chest, she could feel the rumble of Simpson's laughter as he continued, "Come over here, boss. Slide your hands up the nice police officer's skirt and take back those cute little panties she borrowed from us. But be careful, she might have a pair of handcuffs hidden up there." He chuckled at his own joke.

Turning her head towards Rochelle's responding laugh, she caught a glimpse of naked maleness before he moved out of sight behind her. Christ, he already had his clothes off. Then she felt two hard hands on her legs. They sensuously stroked the backs of her stockinged legs, slowly moving upward, raising her skirt as they went. Tiredly, Kate tried to kick back at him but could manage no more than feeble spasms. The hands were on the bare skin above the suspendered stocking tops. Now they were lingeringly caressing her bottom through the satin material of the stolen underwear. His voice was hoarse as he spoke.

"I was right about what these panties would do for you, sweetheart. I've never seen a more desirable ass."

She felt the warmth of his hand, through the flimsy material, as it cradled and gently massaged her crotch. Fingers slipped under the leg elastic and probed for an opening. Under the drug's seductive influence, her quivering flesh offered no resistance to the penetration. A startled gasp was smothered by Simpson's mouth, as he pressed his lips to hers in a bruising kiss. A warm flush was sweeping over Katie and she felt shivering sensations throughout the length of her body as Simpson's tactile tongue reached deep inside her mouth and Rochelle's wriggling finger tantalized her stiffening clitoris. When the finger withdrew it left her with a vague feeling of frustrated loss.

Simpson continued to kiss her passionately as Rochelle slowly peeled the contraband panties over her hips, down her legs and off.

"You'll be pleased to know, Jack, we have our panties back. Now for the bra."

Being a big girl, unused to the role of submissive female, she found Simpson's great strength to be both shocking and, in an odd way, sensually debilitating. Almost, it seemed, without effort he carried her over to the desk and sat her on its edge. Holding her up with one encircling arm, he used his free hand to pop the buttons on her blouse. Unbuckling the wide leather belt around her waist, he yanked the blouse out from under the waistband. He then yanked it down her arms and off. Lifting her again, this time facing away from him, he turned to face the naked Rochelle. "Help yourself, boss."

As Rochelle advanced, she studied him in a drug induced state of euphoria. Not as big as Simpson, he did, nevertheless, have an excellent physique. Broad shoulders and chest tapered to a narrow waist and hips with long muscular legs. She noticed that, though not yet fully erect, the penis dangling below a thick curly bush of brown hair was impressively long and thick. He moved in close between her dangling legs and, with a deft flick of his fingers, opened the strapless front fastening bra. It dropped, unheeded, to the floor and her ample breasts sprung free. With an evil grin he said, "Well Jack, we have all our property, but I think we've earned ourselves something extra. What do you say?" Gripped in his bear like embrace, Katie could sense the growing impatience of the man holding her from behind. She could also feel the heat and hardness of his manhood pressing against her bottom.
"Enough of this bullshit"The impatient voice growled in her ear. "Get that skirt of the cunt and feed her some cock."

Rochelle reached out to gently knead and tease her breasts. Exposed to the air conditioned coolness and under the expert titillation of his fingers, her nipples quickly became hard and erect. Unbelievably she was beginning to feel aroused.

A combination of anger, shame and an unaccustomed helplessness was causing ambivalent feelings within the hapless cop. In a strange sort of way the situation was like an erotic dream and she was losing her sense of reality. Rochelle's lips were now on her breasts and his tongue was fluttering over her erectile nipples. His hands were at her waist, unsnapping the side fastener. There was the sound of a descending zipper and her skirt fell to the floor in a soft heap of silk. Her only remaining garments were a pair of sheer nylon stockings, suspendered to the green satin belt.

Rochelle sank to his knees and, with his hands cupped behind her knees, lifted her legs and draped them over his shoulders. Feebly, she tried to close her legs but Rochelle' thumbs were pressing against the inside of her knees easily forcing them apart and his head was between her thighs. Feeling his hot breath, she felt shocked but her reaction was dulled. She managed a faint gasp as his tongue darted between the lips of her vagina. Her last rational emotion before succumbing totally to the effects of the drug and that talented tongue was one of faint surprise. She, a highly trained police lieutenant, was about to be used by these two criminals in whatever way they chose and there wasn't a damn thing she either could or wanted to do about it. Briefly she wondered about the two missing sergeants but, frankly, she no longer cared.

Something beyond her control was happening. A warm liquid sensation was spreading from her loins, overpowering her will to resist. The fluttering tongue had found her clitoris and was making it stand to attention. Before long, she was grunting and squealing as waves of agonizing sensation swept her ever higher. Her seduction was being helped by the long sensitive fingers that had parted her buttocks and were stroking the soft flesh between. Simpson was also taking a more aggressive role in her sexual subjugation. He was now supporting her with only one arm. With his free hand he was kneading her breasts and rolling the nipples between calloused fingers.

Simpson's deep voice, coarse with lust, added fuel to the erotic atmosphere. His hot breath tickled her ear as he mouthed obscenities. "Is it good bitch? You just love that tongue in your sweet pussy, don't you? You think it can't get much better, but you're wrong. Just wait till you feel my hard, hot cock in there. I'll send you to heaven."

Just as she felt she might explode from the rising waves of exquisite sensation, the tonguing stopped. Rising to his feet, Rochelle cupped her buttocks in his hands and raised her lower body. She felt the soft warm head of his rampant penis nuzzling between her legs. It met with no resistance as it slid slowly but inexorably into her wet throbbing flesh. In long slow measured strokes, he drove in and out of her. Within seconds she attained a minor orgasm, but it was anticlimactic, leaving her dissatisfied. The small amount of pleasure it brought her was out of proportion to Rochelle's bull like roar as his semen jetted into her. Withdrawing, he spoke, "OK, Jack. It's your turn now. Do you need any help?"

"No thanks, boss. She's a big strong bitch, but there's no fight left in her. She just wants more cock and I have plenty of that for her." Swinging her up and over, like she was a side of beef, Simpson laid her on her back across the mahogany desk with her head toward him. The smooth wood felt cool against her fevered skin. She lay there limply, watching him rip of his clothes. Despite her weakened state, she gasped in shock at the sight of the man's muscular bulk. The broad chest was covered in a thick pelt of black hair. Below the hard ridged stomach was another thick triangle of black fur, but it was the enormous rampant penis that had caused her gasp. Never, in her wildest dreams, had she imagined one that big. It had to be at least twelve inches long and thick as her wrist. As he moved toward her, she was mesmerized by the huge swaying organ that was already dripping with anticipatory lubricant. He gripped her thick hair in one hand, holding her head rigid. When she felt the well oiled head of his penis probing at her lips, she pursed them tight and clenched her teeth.

With the forefinger and thumb of his free hand, Simpson pinched her nostrils together, saying, "Open up and give John Thomas a big sloppy kiss to show your gratitude for what he's going to do for you."

Unable to breathe through her nose, she opened her mouth to gasp for air. The slippery male flesh slid between her lips. Though having a wide generous mouth, her lips were stretched to capacity accommodating the intrusion. For a few moments the throbbing hot flesh lay inert in her mouth. Then, with surprising gentleness, it began short stroking movements. He was careful not to push to deep, to choke her and she began to realize that the sensation in her mouth was not entirely unpleasant. The big mushroom head was soft and silky to the touch and she tentatively swirled her tongue around it. As she felt it quiver and swell in response, she had the thought that, if she could bring him to a climax this way, she might be spared having that huge thing inside her belly. God, the thing was big enough to kill her.

"Wow," groaned Simpson. "The cunt gives great head, Jack. Why don't you reward her with a nice finger fuck?"

Almost immediately Rochelle's hands were on her lower body. They pushed her unresisting legs apart and a stiff forefinger was inserted. It was a very knowledgeable finger and, in no time at all, she was writhing in passionate response. Both hands wrapped around Simpson's cock, she was sucking on it frenetically. Just as she thought she was going to succeed in bringing him off, he pulled free.

Pushing Rochelle aside, Simpson gripped her ankles. She felt the friction and heard the squeaking sound of skin rubbing across wood as the big man hauled her sticky bottom across the desk until it was positioned over the edge. Lifting her legs, he spread them wide. When she felt the first pressure of his thrusting cock, she drew in a huge gulp of air and held her breath. Slowly its length and thickness stretched and filled her. Realizing there was no pain, she exhaled in a sudden rush of breath. Hey, it felt good. Sure it seemed like it might come out her mouth if he penetrated any further, but the sensation caused by those long sliding strokes was driving her wild. Each time he went in, his big heavy testicles slapped her bottom and the head of his cock tickled a very sensitive spot deep inside. On each backstroke he withdrew far enough for the head to nuzzle her clit. With practiced skill, Simpson took her to the edge several times but, just as she was about to go over, he would slow his strokes letting her passion ebb. Then he would slowly bring her back up again. She totally abandoned herself to the waves of pleasure as the thrusting cock stimulated her to greater heights of erotic sensation than she had ever dreamed possible.

Finally, Simpson began to increase the rate of his thrusts. Simultaneously, he started varying the angle and depth of each stroke. Out of control, in the grip of unbearable lust, her big body writhed and thrashed like that of a landed fish. She was only vaguely aware that Rochelle was standing over her, cock in his hand, masturbating. As though in a dream she felt the spurts of semen hit her in the face and neck. Then she and Simpson reached a simultaneous conclusion. She screamed and her whole body went rigid as massive orgasmic spasms racked her tortured body. At the last moment, Simpson withdrew and prodigious quantities of sperm spewed over her belly and breasts.

In a catatonic stupor, so drained by passion and weakened by the injected drug, it was impossible for her to move. Her two heroic sergeants chose that moment to burst through the door, guns drawn, yelling, "Police!"

After Lieutenant O'Donnell left the car and headed for the boutique, Jenner licked his dry lips as he watched her retreating figure and listened to the clicking stiletto heels. He felt a stirring in his loins as his imagination ran wild. His hands were swooping under that swirling silk skirt and running all the way up her long muscular legs to grab her magnificent buns. He sighed, "Ain't that arrogant bitch something else."

Bronson muttered. " Yeah, they just had to promote a woman to lieutenant. Doesn't matter whether she's qualified. It burned my ass when she said she would be better off without us."

"I know what you mean partner. Maybe we should let her try."

"Are you nuts? The captain would have our balls. He really has the hots for that broad."

"Can you blame him?" Jenner had a dreamy look in his eyes. "I'd give anything for an opportunity to hold that gorgeous ass in my hands."

Later, when the alarm sounded, he tensed for a moment, then relaxed and sat back in the seat. When his partner started to get out of the car, he stopped him with a hand on his arm. "What's your hurry? Remember, she's better off without us. She's a big tough girl."

"Huh?" Bronson looked shocked. "That store detective could fuck a gorilla without getting a scratch. In any case, what's the captain going to say?"

"Hell, we just say the alarm didn't go off. Anyhow, we'll go in. . . . eventually."

When they finally went through the store to the rear office they found the door closed but unlocked. Jenner threw it open and jumped into the room with Bronson on his heels.

What he saw made him draw his gun and yell, "Police!"

The two naked Lotharios were standing next to the desk. Lieutenant Kate O'Donnell was sprawled across it, her long legs hanging limply over the edge. She was bare-assed naked except for a garter belt and nylon stockings.

"Christ!" Bronson's voice sounded next to him, "Holy shit!"

A startled Rochelle and Simpson, caught as it were with their pants down, offered no resistance to the gun wielding cops. Bronson took them into the outer office to get dressed and await the arrival of a patrol car to take them into custody. Jenner stayed in the back office with Kate. He gathered her clothing and stood looking at her sprawled body, heavy black hair damp with perspiration and her face slack with sated lust. His eyes roamed lasciviously over her semen spattered nakedness, his nostrils twitching at the acrid scent of spent passions.

"Jesus, Lieutenant I have to admire the way you handled these two guys. Shit, you might have killed them if we hadn't come along and saved them. I hope they don't charge you with police brutality."

Bronson returned a few minutes later and closed the door behind him. Still drugged, Kate tried to rise on her elbows but fell back with a groan and closed her eyes. Bronson stood beside him. "Is she OK? What the hell did they do to her?"

"You mean apart from screwing her out of her mind?"

"Right, she looks drugged."

Jenner pointed to the empty syringe on the carpet, "See that? They juiced her up with something, but she'll be OK when it wears off. "

Bronson, continuing to stare at the ravished lieutenant, whispered, "I don't know about you, but it's really turning me on seeing her like this."

"Yeah. There's a shower in the bathroom. Maybe we should get her in there to get cleaned up." The two sergeants exchanged a meaningful look.

Jenner put a hand on Kate's shoulder. "Come on Lieutenant. We're going to help you to the bathroom. You've got to get cleaned up." His hand left her shoulder and he let his fingers, as though by accident, trail lightly over the perfect twin spheres of her breasts. Kate stirred but was too weak in body and spirit to protest. With one arm under her shoulders he heaved her to her feet. Her legs were shaky and she would have fallen if they hadn't supported her on either side.

It was a big bathroom with a long shower stall big enough for several people. After propping Kate up on a wooden slat bench, they started taking their clothes off. All the time they were looking nervously at Kate, half expecting her to protest. She showed no emotion as her dulled eyes watched them undressing. It looked like she was drifting in and out of reality. She made no protest when they picked her up and half carried, half walked her into the shower. They didn't bother to remove her suspender belt and stockings.

Jensen held her up from behind while Bronson gently lathered her, starting with the hair and working down. His hands, slick with soap, massaged her large firm breasts. Behind her, Jenner was acutely aware of the warm vibrant flesh against his nakedness. His stiffened cock was pressing between the cheeks of her ass and he was trembling with pent up desire. He couldn't rid himself of the mental picture of Rochelle and Simpson, buck naked with their big pricks still twitching and dripping, as they stood by the desk. Thinking about what they had done to the big sexy lieutenant was fueling his lust. Bronson had now sunk to his knees, lathering Kate's legs and crotch. It was taking him a while and Jenner guessed that his partner's searching fingers were taking the opportunity to do some pussy tickling. Jenner had Kate's tits cupped in his hands and was doing some teasing of his own. He could feel the nipples stiffening under his rolling fingers.

Neither man spoke. It was as though they were afraid the spell might be broken and Kate would begin to resist. There was, however, a bond between the two partners that needed no formal communication. Almost as though rehearsed they took the next step. Bronson sank backward till he was on his back on the floor of the shower stall. Jenner leaned forward, allowing Kate's unresisting legs to buckle and she sank down astride the prone sergeant. Placing his hands on her hips, Bronson slowly lowered her to his waiting erection. He heaved a loud sigh of satisfaction as his hard aching cock sank deep into the warm slippery pussy. Reaching up he cradled her swinging tits in his hands

Jenner watched with interest. He had concluded that, whatever Kate had been injected with, it had the effect of weakening her muscles and lowering the inhibitions while heightening her sexual sensitivity. She had offered no protest and was clearly aroused by their attentions. Squealing and grunting with pleasure, she was riding Bronson's cock with gusto but the excitement was too much for poor Bronson. He climaxed within seconds, grunting like a pig as he flooded her with his seed.

Now it was Jenner's turn and he was more than ready. The lust within him had been building up until he was ready to explode. With a powerful heave he hauled Kate off of Bronson and positioned her on all fours. Her arms would not support her and she ended with her head on her forearms and her tail elevated. Kneeling behind and between her legs he used his knees to spread her thighs.

He stared silently, for a moment at the smooth creamy skin of her well rounded rump. For months he had been watching the lieutenant as she paraded around the station house in her elegant clothes and with her patrician nose stuck in the air. He had stared at her long shapely legs and the tight rounded buttocks with lust in his heart, knowing she was unattainable to someone like him. By one of those strange quirks of fate, that delectable up thrust ass was now his for the taking. With his hands on her hips, fingers gripping the suspender belt like the reins on a horse, he used his thumbs to part her cheeks. His thick black cock, looking even more massive against the contrast of her creamy white flesh, probed between, found its target and slowly, thrust forward until it was buried to the hilt. He had to exercise every ounce of his self-control not to ejaculate immediately like Bronson, but he was determined to make Lieutenant High and Mighty sing loud and clear for him.

He serviced her with slow, deliberate strokes. With each thrust he revolved his hips so that the head of his cock tickled every inch of her pussy walls. On each withdrawal he came all the way out before slowly sliding back in. Within moments she was grunting and squealing but he didn't allow her to peak. Each time he felt the start of the telltale contractions, he stopped and let her lust subside a little before continuing. This drove her wild and her sobbing cries became louder and louder. Finally, he allowed her to go over the top and she howled with satisfaction. He continued, however, to fuck her relentlessly at the same slow steady speed. Within seconds a torrent of spasms swept through her heaving body. They cried out in unison as he jetted into her.

Lifting her from the floor they propelled her back under the shower where they again washed her off. After drying her and dressing themselves, they carried the bemused lieutenant into the outer room. While Bronson supported her from behind, Jenner dressed her. It was an extremely erotic experience for them. As Jenner voluptuously pulled the green satin panties up her long stockinged legs and over her cute ass his cock began to reawaken. While he was tucking her gorgeous tits into the matching bra, he rubbed his burgeoning sex organ against her belly. He could see that Bronson was also getting a thrill from grinding his front bulge against the satin clad buttocks. By the time they finally got her into the blouse, skirt and coat they were again highly aroused. But it was time to be getting out of there, it was after five o'clock. With one of them on each side they managed to get her through the outer store and into the car.

They placed Kate on the front seat between them. Jenner took the wheel and headed for Kate's apartment. After a while he became aware of heavy breathing beside him. Glancing sideways he saw that Bronson had his left arm around Kate's shoulders and was passionately kissing her wide generous mouth. Her blouse and bra were open and his right hand was caressing those perfect tits. Jenner was developing an erection that could have lifted a truck. Taking his right hand from the wheel he reached out and gripped Kate's knee. Slowly and sensually he slid his hand upward, pushing back her skirt, until he reached the bare warm flesh above her stockings. His fingers touched and gently stroked the warm pantied flesh. He could feel her responding. Legs sprawled wide, she moaned and groaned as she pushed against his hand and the satin covering her crotch was slippery with lubricating juices. Jenner thought it was an incredibly turn-on to be finger fucking his gorgeous lieutenant while his partner was kissing and fondling her above.

Fortunately, they reached Kate's apartment before Jenner could drive them into an oncoming car. The sergeants wasted no time in getting the lieutenant into her apartment. The bedroom was on the second floor. Despite her size, the horny duo hefted her up the stairs as though she were weightless. Dropping her on the king size bed, the men ripped off their clothes.

Turning back to their senior officer, they proceeded to relieve her of her clothes. Jenner had a good natured grin on his face as he said,

"You know, Lieutenant, I'm beginning to feel like your personal valet." Then, as he recollected past hurts and deep rooted racial mistrust, he added with a sneer and a fake southern accent, " Shoulda call yah mistress. Let's get dem purty clothes off ya missy." With Bronson's help, he hefted her over on to her belly and taking hold of the light coat he yanked it down over her arms and tossed it on the floor. The blouse followed. After rolling her onto her back once more, Jenner unbuckled her belt and hauled the skirt off. Bronson peeled of the panties. They didn't bother taking off her stockings.
They stood by the bed, erections jutting out in front of them, looking at their naked prey. Kate's eyes seemed a little clearer and she was looking up at them as though in recognition. It looked like the drug was beginning to wear off. Then for the first time she spoke, albeit in a faint hoarse voice,

"You lousy rotten bastards. You ignored that alarm didn't you?"

Jenner, startled by the unexpected sound of her voice, hesitated, "No . . . of course not. It never went off. After a while we got worried and came in anyway."

"Bullshit!" her voice was getting a little stronger. The two sergeants were looking a little sheepish but then they were surprised to see what looked like a faint smile on her lips. Reaching up she lazily took a throbbing cock in each hand and commenced to massage them. "Tell you what, assholes. If you give me one more good fuck and then let me sleep, we can talk about it in the morning."

Jenner was thinking about how aloof the lieutenant had always seemed and how she was now. In a sudden flash of intuition it occurred to him that she had probably been covering up a lot of insecurity with a veneer of arrogance. Perhaps, like him, she was hiding a lot of pent up anger because of discrimination. In his case it was race, in hers, gender. Maybe they had a lot more in common than he had ever realized. He looked at his partner and quipped, "Looks like our Lieutenant has regained control of the situation and taken us in hand."

Climbing on the bed, Jenner lay beside her. With his left arm under her head he leaned over and kissed her tenderly on the lips. His right hand stroked her neck and shoulder before dropping to her breasts. Bronson had positioned himself in a kneeling position between her legs and was sliding her buttocks up on to his thighs. Hanging her legs over his shoulders, he pulled her on to him. Jenner thought it was a fantastic aphrodisiac to be kissing someone who was moaning, groaning and bucking as a result of being screwed by another man. Bronson was fucking her hard and fast causing her tits to wobble like big Jell-O puddings. When her body arched in orgasm, Jenner muffled her screams with his mouth and tongue.

An exhausted Bronson, rolled away to the inside of the bed, and lay panting. Jenner, still kissing and fondling Kate, rolled her on her side and pulled her bottom toward him. His well oiled cock nuzzled between the backs of her thighs and slid upward to find the warm silken sheath. They fell asleep in that position.

After sleeping for twelve straight hours, Kate awakened slowly, reluctant to greet the day. She just wanted to turn over and go back to the secure haven of sleep. The bedside clock, however, was a brooding irritant. It was after seven and she had to get to the precinct ... Then the events of the previous afternoon started rolling into her mind. The whole scenario, however, was so unreal that she almost convinced herself it was a dream. But it was no dream. O, God! How could she face the world in general, and her fellow officers in particular after what had happened. Dragging herself out of bed with the enthusiasm of a condemned woman, she staggered toward the bathroom. The haggard image with the bedraggled hair that peered from the bathroom mirror did little to make her feel better.

A lingering hot shower eased the anguish slightly. The mirror now indicated that the damage might be repairable with a little make up. She spent quite a while deciding what to wear, it kept her from thinking too much. Plain cotton knit underwear and a business suit in charcoal grey suited her state of mind, she was in no mood for fripperies. Just as she finished rolling on her panty-hose and was stepping into a pair of sensible wedge heeled pumps, the door bell rang. When she saw who it was she exclaimed, "O, shit!" Crowding in through the open doorway, Jenner's bulk prevented her from slamming the door in his face. "What do you want?" she demanded in a listless voice.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant, but we need to talk. Please." He sounded uncharacteristically contrite and his eyes were almost pleading. Staring at him for a moment, she stepped aside and silently directed him to the sofa. As she took a chair opposite him, he said,

"Bronson and I went down to the station last night and took care of booking those two guys. Our reports say only that they accused you of shoplifting and that they said they wouldn't prosecute you, if you cooperated in having sex with them. According to our reports, you signaled us at that time and we came in and arrested them.

We interrogated Rochelle and Simpson. There's no way those two are going to tell what really happened; they don't want to face rape charges. In fact they fell over themselves to sign statements confessing to having tried to blackmail you. In other words, Lieutenant, no one needs to know anything about what really happened. I understand, of course, that you may not want it that way. You may want to bring rape charges against them . . . "he looked at the floor, ". . . and us. That's up to you. I just thought that, as a cop an' all you might prefer to keep it quiet.

I also want you to know that Bronson and I are feeling pretty shitty. We did the worst thing any cop could ever do; we left another officer in a dangerous situation and didn't back her up. We deserve everything that's coming to us. Even if you don't want to press formal charges, we're both prepared to resign if you want us to. You ought to know, though, that Bronson didn't want to let you down, he just kinda went along with me. I know that doesn't excuse him, but I'm the real culprit. Christ, Lieutenant, I don't know what got into me. It's been building up for a long time. I've been feeling like the department has written me off because I'm black and don't have a college degree. I come from the wrong side of the tracks and I guess I've kinda been focusing all my anger on you. You've been like a symbol of everything I'm angry with. White, well educated, beautiful and so damn confident you've inherited the earth. I just felt that you were looking down your nose at me. But, hell, none of that is any excuse for what we did."

For a long time, she just stared at Jenner sitting, broad shoulders slumped, head bowed looking vacantly at the carpet, and then she spoke, "The only thing you're right about, Jenner is that I'm white. I can't help being white and I'm not about to apologize for it, anymore than you are for being black. My background is every bit as poor as yours and I didn't have my education handed to me. I had to do it part time while I worked for a living. Yes, I guess I have looks and I admit I make use of them. I dress good and take every possible advantage to get ahead in a man's world. If I treated you bad it wasn't because you were black or came from the wrong side of the tracks. It was because you were a total asshole, along with almost every other chauvinist jerk in the department.

You know what it's like to be discriminated against. You've probably been the target of many stupid demeaning jokes about your color. But you didn't learn anything from it, did you asshole? You still did the same to me. The sly innuendos and dumb sexist jokes. I should have been able to expect some understanding from you. But no. You were the worst of the whole damn lot. Fuck you, Jenner. As for yesterday, you're right. I do want to keep it quiet. I like being a cop but I would never be able to face everyone if they knew what happened. The trouble is how I know you and your partner aren't going to blab about it. I mean, it's a great locker room story, isn't it?"

"The answer to that is obvious if you think about it, Lieutenant. We would be finished as cops if it became known what we did. It would be suicide for us to open our stupid mouths. Anyhow, as I said, if you want us to quit we will."

Again she stared at him for a long time before speaking. Her mind was in turmoil. She had so many mixed up feelings about the events of the day before. There was, of course anger and embarrassment. It hurt her professional pride that she had been unable to handle and control the Rochelle, Simpson situation. She was really angry about her two fellow officers letting her down. As a cop she couldn't forgive that. Yet, as a woman, she was having trouble sorting out her emotions. Intellectually, she was outraged at the contemptuous way in which she had been abused by her assailants. What troubled her was that, at the time, she had enjoyed it. She might even be able, eventually, to live with that if she could write it off to the effects of the drug. But she wasn't sure the drug could be blamed for everything. Christ! Was she some kind of a closet nymphomaniac? Inwardly she groaned. Her thoughts were in complete disarray and she needed time to sort it all out. Why, she was even feeling a stirring of maternal affection, or something, for the rat sitting opposite her.

With an angry toss of her head, she rose to her feet and screamed. "No you don't have to resign. I just wish I never had to look at your goddamn face again. Now get the hell out of here you bastard before I get my gun and shoot you."

Visibly shaken by her outburst, Jenner jumped to his feet. In his hurry to leave, he almost tripped over his own big feet as he headed for the door.

The traffic was heavy as her drove downtown, giving her plenty of time to reflect. The problem was that she didn't seem to be able to think rationally in her normal analytical way. In the past, she had enjoyed her share of sexual fantasies. Like most women, however, there was a distinct dividing line between her fantasies and real life. In her fictional imagination, almost anything went, whereas in her day to day life, she was bound by all the usual inhibitions and moral conventions Yesterday's happenings had blurred the dividing line, because reality had become the fantasy. Of course, the drug had contributed in breaking down the barrier. Yet now, unlike pure fantasy, the dividing line didn't seem to have re-established itself. It was as though some previously buried, primeval part of her brain had been released and was demanding recognition.

She kept reliving the previous day and the mental images were stimulating her sexuality. Her legs felt weak and her breasts ached as she remembered Simpson's hairy muscular body and the effortless way in which he had been able to subdue her. An involuntary groan escaped her lips and her legs opened as she vividly recalled the exquisite sensation of having that enormous penis buried inside her. Suddenly she was jolted back to reality when the car in front of her braked for another red light. Jesus, she had to stop daydreaming before she had an accident. What the hell was happening to her? Hell, even when she had been so angry with Jenner this morning, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about how it had been with him. She had almost been tempted to drag him into the bedroom for an early morning quickie. Could the drug still be active? She didn't think so. Was she losing her mind? It seemed like it.

Captain Joe Hammond was in his office reading the reports on the Rochelle Boutique case. Something was puzzling him but he wasn't sure just what. It was all neatly sewn up culminating in confession statements from both Rochelle and Simpson. Perhaps that was what bothered him, it was too tidy. Everything fitted together like an academy set piece. He was also surprised that such hard characters as those two would so easily confess their sins. It didn't make sense, but what the hell. The officers had done a good job and the D.A. would be happy, it was an open and shut case.

Just then there was a knock on his door and Lieutenant Kate O'Donnell walked in. "You wanted to see me Captain?"

"Yeah, take a seat Kate." He examined her with a quizzical expression. There was something different about her today. Her hair was tightly bound back in a bun, making her look schoolmarmish. The black pin stripe business suit added to the effect. Her bearing and manner also reflected a severity that was out of character. Disappointingly, she managed to sit down without the usual flash of nylon clad legs. "You going to a funeral or something, Kate?"

"No." She didn't even ask him why he had asked. Just sat there, hands folded primly in her lap, looking at him expectantly.

"Em, right, I just wanted to congratulate you on wrapping up the Rochelle case. You and the boys did a good job."

"Thank you." There was little enthusiasm in her voice.

"I was surprised that those two goons confessed like that. I would have expected them to proclaim their innocence to the end. Hell, they didn't even ask for a lawyer." He paused, expecting some response from her, but she just sat there, an enigmatic smile on her face, and said nothing. Something was obviously preoccupying her. He shrugged and changed the subject. "Are you about ready to leave for the day? My car is in the shop 'till tomorrow and I could use a ride." His apartment was, more or less on her way home, and she had given him a lift a couple of times before.

"Sure. No problem."

There was an empty parking space outside his apartment. Kate deftly swung into it. Hand on the door handle, he turned to her. "Why don't you come up for a drink?" Expecting her to decline as she always had before; he was pleasantly surprised when she accepted.

He noticed, while they made small talk in the elevator, that her mood seemed to have lightened. Her speech was more animated and she was regaining some of her customary vivacity. When they entered his one bedroom apartment, she handed him her coat and headed toward the window that took up one complete wall of the living room. "Wow, Joe. What a fantastic view. This place must take a chunk out of your salary."

Hanging her coat in the closet, he covertly studied her silhouette against the fading light coming through the window. The severely drawn back hair brought out her profile in sharp relief, giving it the clean cut beauty of a classical cameo. Not even the severe business suit could hide her statuesque figure. Ever since she was assigned to his precinct, he had been in love. He knew he was lusting after the unattainable. Yet he was achingly attracted to her vivacious charm, refined elegance and beauty. He yearned just to be near her, to absorb the faint fragrance of her perfume and to hear the lilt of her deep mellifluous voice. Just having her in his apartment like this, to be able to talk about things unrelated to work, was lightening his heart in a way he had not experienced for years. You old fool. You're acting like a love sick teenager. He crossed the room, joining her by the window. "You're right. It's really more than I can afford, but I love the view."

The air conditioned apartment seemed cooler than usual. As they stood silently by the large window, looking out at the city skyline, he noticed her shiver. In an almost involuntary movement, he reached out to gather her in his arms. He was about to release her again, thinking he had overstepped himself and would be rebuffed. To his surprise, however, she snuggled against his hard muscled chest and sighed contentedly. For a while he was happy just to hold her, telling himself that this was enough, that it was far more than he had ever dared hope for. But, inevitably, his male restlessness began to stir, challenging him to further test the boundaries.

His embrace began to tighten as his manhood awoke to the pressure of her warm vibrancy. He knew that, even through the layers of clothing, she must be aware of his arrogant male arousal and had to sense his growing hunger. Taking heart from her apparent compliance, he joined his lips to hers in tender union.

When her lips opened to accept the intruding tongue, his heart soared. Hardly able to believe his good fortune, he was actually daring to consider that his wildest fantasies might come true. Suddenly, releasing her, he used both hands to grip her open suit jacket by the lapels and tug it down over her shoulders. Still, she made no protest as the discarded jacket fell soundlessly to the floor. It was only when he began to unbutton her blouse, that she took his wrists in her hands and pulled them, gently but firmly away.

"No, Joe. You're moving too fast for me. I need time and space to breathe."

Inwardly cursing, the last thing he wanted to do was give her time to think, Joe said, "I'm sorry, Kate. I must be crazy. As they say, there's no fool like an old fool."

"Don't say that. You are neither old nor a fool and you don't have to be sorry. I didn't mind. It's just that, lately, there are some things in my life that have been bothering me. My head is kind of mixed up right now. Please be patient." Reaching out, she wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder. "Just hold me tight."

They stood silently like that for several minutes while he desperately tried to exercise the restraint she had asked for. But it was tough to deny the arousal her warm proximity was causing. That and the tantalizing scent from her thick lustrous hair was driving him nuts. The frustration of being thwarted, just when he thought the unattainable might be possible, made him reckless. O, hell. What do I have to lose?

He slid his large calloused hands down over her rump, fondling and kneading. Surreptitiously he hiked up her skirt until he could grasp the hem. Insinuating his fingers under the waistband of her underwear, he trailed them lazily across her naked skin. Though she stiffened at his touch, she said nothing. Encouraged, he became bolder. Parting the cheeks of her buttocks he used his forefinger to stroke the crease between. Her muscles tensed for a moment, then relaxed and he could hear her breathing get a little louder.

Suddenly, surprising him with her strength and agility, she loosened his grip and broke away. "No, Joe. I'm sorry but we shouldn't be doing this. We have to work together and we don't need this kind of complication. I must be going now."

In an agony of frustration, all he could manage was, "But we haven't had that drink yet."

"Some other time, perhaps." She had her jacket on and was taking her coat from the closet. She smiled gently and lightly pecked him on the cheek as she opened the front door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

The sound of a closing door reverberated in his ears as though it would go on forever, leaving him with no more than the lingering aroma of her perfume and the biggest boner he'd had in years.

After a particularly strenuous workout and a long soak in the jacuzzi, Kate was driving the ten blocks to her apartment. A member of the Sunnyside Health Club for the past year, she went there almost daily. She had gone there tonight, after leaving Joe Hammond's place, hoping to burn off some of the tension that had been building throughout the day. Why had she said yes when Joe invited her in to his apartment? Professionally she admired and respected the older man and felt comfortable in his presence. Naively, she had thought they could relax for a while over a quiet drink and some conversation. She knew, of course, how much he lusted after her but had always treated it lightly. It had been like a game, giving the old man an occasional flash of leg or wiggling her bottom a little. The weird thing was that, tonight, she had almost given in to him. She had felt secure and comfortable in his arms and had not been angered when she felt his obvious arousal. Frankly, she had to admit that, if those big capable hands had stayed in her pants just a little longer, she would probably have ended up in his bed. Christ! She didn't know what had got into her since the Rochelle, Simpson affair. The incident had left her with feelings of anger and embarrassment. It had also left her with an almost continual sensation of heightened sexual awareness.
Kate, stretched out on the sofa after a light dinner, was only half awake when the door bell made her jump. Turning the television off, she tied the cord on her robe before looking through the peep hole in the door. She was startled to see Jenner. O, shit! What did he want now? Tempted not to answer the door, she finally relented. "What the hell do you want, Jenner?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you Lieutenant, but I need to talk with you." For all his bulk, he looked like a small troubled boy shuffling from one foot to the other and there was a pleading look in his eyes.

She sighed and stepped aside. "Come in. I thought we said everything that needed to be said this morning."

For the second time in one day he sat on the sofa with her in a chair opposite. Perched on the edge of the sofa, his eyes shifted nervously as he spoke. "I just had to come back and tell you again how sorry I am about what happened. I've been a cop for a long time and I know I'm a good one. That's why I can't forgive myself for letting you down like I did."

His big hands were moving restlessly as he spoke and there was a catch in his voice. Christ. The big jerk is going to cry any minute from now.

"You're right, Jenner. It was a rotten thing to do and I don't think I can ever forgive it. Still, we're going to have to work together and I suppose we need some kind of understanding. Even if I can ignore what happened, what I can't do is continue to put up with the shit that you and some of the other men were giving me. You know what I mean, the bad sexist jokes and the sly comments. That's got to stop.

"It will," he said quietly but with convincing emphasis.

She stared at him for a few seconds, then stood in silent dismissal. He shuffled to his feet, still wearing that hang dog look. "For Christ's sake, Jenner. What do you want from me? Have you any idea what I've been going through? Can you even begin to understand the anger, the shame? . . . I can't even look at you without remembering what happened. And you want me to just shrug it off and forget it ever took place." Then, in a violent eruption of emotion, "O, God!" Overcome by anger and frustration she started beating him on the chest and biceps with her fists. Startled, he reached out to grab her by the arms. In self defense he pulled her close to block the blows. As suddenly as it came, the eruption ended and she collapsed, crying and sobbing on his shoulder.

The flare up was something that had been building all day. Now, she was totally debilitated. Her limbs felt weak as water, and if Jenner had not been holding her, she would have collapsed. Having let it out, all she wanted to do was find a safe haven. For the moment, Jenner's strong arms were serving that purpose and she was content to let him hold her.

The big ox was muttering to her in clumsy phrases, such as a father might use to comfort a distressed child. After a while, probably weary of supporting her not inconsiderable weight, he lowered her to the sofa. Sitting alongside, he continued to hold and comfort her. She began to talk, in disjointed phrases, about how it had been, trying to make it as a female police officer. As she described the difficulties of a woman trying to succeed in a man's world, he began to contribute his own thoughts. He felt that his own experience, as a black man trying to compete in a white dominated field, was very similar to hers. Strangely, she was feeling a strong bond begin to develop between them; a bond that, just a short time ago, would have seemed impossible.

They talked for quite a while, before Kate realized there was another factor creeping into their ripening relationship. There was a growing expectancy, a heightened awareness of each other's bodies. She felt an emotional vibrato, subtle as a faint breath stirring the hair on one's skin. Knowing he could also sense it, his voice was becoming hoarse and there was a tension in the arm across her shoulder, she wondered at the perversity of human emotion. There was such a narrow gap between hatred and desire. When he bent to seek her mouth, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. She allowed her lips to open under the pressure of his kiss.

When he tugged at the cord on her robe and it opened she made no protest. At the touch of fingers on her breast, she offered no resistance. As the hand moved down, she sank back and allowed her legs to open, offering no impediment to the encroachment.

She lay limply in the crook of his powerful arm. Nerveless legs sprawled wide in total capitulation, as gentle fingers eased her open and slid within. Blissful moans escaped her open mouth and her breathing quickened as he expertly aroused her to a state of acute excitement. Now certain of her surrender, he rose to his feet, gathered her in his arms and lifted her from the couch. As she was borne through the open bedroom door she sensed an almost imperceptible falter in Jenner's step and a wayward thought entered her mind. She recalled how effortlessly Simpson had hefted her one hundred and fifty pound body. The unbidden thought, far from distracting her, was actually increasing her arousal.

Sitting at the bottom of the bed, she admired Jenner's naked body. Though barely six feet tall, he was broad shouldered, deep in the chest and lean in waist and hip. Well defined muscles rippled under the smooth ebony skin as he discarded the last of his clothing. When he turned toward her, his hard flat belly was only inches from her face. Her attention focused on the triangle of curly black hair and the, not yet fully erect, penis that hung between his well muscled thighs. Reaching up, she took him in both hands and kneaded the quivering flesh. As he stiffened and grew within her grasp, she leaned forward and gently kissed the mushroom shaped knob.

Jenner closed his eyes and groaned as she opened her lips and sucked his cock into her mouth. Slowly and sensually she slid her lips up and down the stiff shaft while tenderly tickling its underside with her tongue. Cupping his heavy testicles in one hand, she reached behind him with the other and lightly caressed his tight muscled backside. She felt his fingers running through her hair as his hands gripped behind her head; heard his murmurs of ecstasy as his body quickened to her flickering tongue. Before she could bring him to a crest, he pulled out. Hooking his hands under her armpits, he drew her up the bed and laid her down. Stretching out beside her, he gathered her in his arms so they were touching along the entire length of their bodies.

Eyes closed, she lay in his arms and reveled in the feel of his hard muscled body pressed against her soft curves. The touch of his warm chest against her inflamed nipples, the pressure of his rampant manhood against her thigh and his deep passionate kisses filled her with an aching desire. A hand was trailing lightly up and down her back. When it finally stayed to tease and stroke the sensitive crease between her buttocks, she shuddered as a delicious tingle spread through her core like wavelets in disturbed water. Rolling, he came down over her. Supporting himself on his elbows, he used his knees to spread her thighs wide and she felt the first exploratory prods as his penis sought sanctuary within her. She drew her knees up, raising her tail, to ease the entry.

As the thrusting cock slipped between the lips of her vagina, she wrapped her legs around behind his back and pulled him into her. Within moments the long sliding strokes had inflamed her passion to unendurable heights. Her loins were melting like wax in a flame and her bones felt soft with desire. The involuntary squeals and whimpers came faster and louder, her breathing became more ragged until finally a choked scream burst from her throat. Her legs straightened, toes rigidly pointing at the ceiling, as a jolt of acute pleasure shot through her.

Still in complete control of his own passion, Jenner continued to fuck her at the same steady pace. Feeling the plunging cock swell and harden as he neared a climax, she sobbed and giggled dementedly, while multiple orgasms rippled through her body. Contentedly, she watched his eyes bulge and listened to his loud ecstatic groans when he finally let go and flooded her with warm sperm. It was a night of exploration, discovery and fulfillment and, by morning, Kate believed herself to be in love.

Joe Hammond was in a foul mood. It was after eight o-clock at night and he should have gone home long ago. Only the night shift occupied the building and the floor where his office situated was empty. Even the cleaners had finished for the day. For days now, Joe had been brooding over what had happened in his apartment that night with Kate O'Donnell. He was well aware of how the lieutenant had been teasing him for a long time. He knew that she knew what she was doing to him when she rolled her delectable ass in his face, when she crossed and uncrossed her long elegant legs in front of him and bent over to give him those brief glimpses of her deep cleavage. If that had been all, had it never come to anything else, he could have accepted it as no more than harmless flirting. The night, however, that she had allowed him to touch her, to actually run his hands over her warm silken skin, everything had changed.

Christ he had been inside her pants, held her naked ass, had come that close to nailing her and then she had pushed him away. It was eating him up. Before, it had been like an adolescent love affair with the unattainable. But now, it was something else; there was embarrassment, resentment and a very acute physical frustration. In his mind he kept going over the events of that night and thinking of what might have been. His fevered imagination fed him with alternative scenarios to reality. He had convinced himself that, if only he had persevered, had not allowed her to push him away, he could have prevailed. That was what she had expected of him but he had just given up after her first token resistance. He should have dragged her to his bedroom, tossed her on the bed and whipped her panties off. He might not be as young as he used to be, but his experience would have more than made up for any deficiency in vitality. A few minutes between those muscular thighs and he could have fingered and tongued her into total submission. Why the hell had he given up so easily?

There was something else eating away at the soul of Joe Hammond. He had been noticing, recently, a sort of unspoken communication between the female lieutenant and Sergeant Jennings. There had been those looks that passed between them and, on one occasion when they thought no one was looking, an intimate touch. There was no doubt in his mind, she was getting a liberal share of black cock and, from the contented look on her face, was enjoying it immensely. Joe was consumed with jealousy. His almost school boyish adoration of Kate O'Donnell had changed to anger and desire to pay her back for the way she had treated him. Suddenly, he was shaken from his reverie by a movement in his open doorway. Looking up he was startled to see Lieutenant Kate O'Donnell standing there looking at him quizzically.

"Working late tonight, Joe?"

Somewhat confused and discomfited at her unexpected appearance he stood and came around his desk to face her.

"What are you doing...?" he started to ask and then he remembered. Of course, she was working nights now, assisting in a sting operation that was attempting to uncover a drug and prostitution ring. Kate had been assigned the role of a high priced call girl. But what was she doing in the precinct? Her next words answered his unspoken question.

"They didn't need me tonight, so I just came in to change before going home. Talking of home, isn't that where you should be, Cap'n"

Joe mumbled something about how he was just about to leave and she started down the corridor toward the locker rooms. Then fate stepped in, she stopped came back into his office and did a pirouette. The short flared skirt she was wearing, in keeping with the role she was playing, swirled about her thighs and there was a brief flash of white nylon panties.

"How do you like my outfit, she simpered?"

Something snapped inside Joe Hammond's head. The big sexy bitch was teasing him again. Well, this time he wasn't going to be content with a tantalizing glimpse of underwear. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders he pulled her close. His free hand swooped under the flared skirt and cupped her crotch.

"It's time you learned a lesson you fucking cock teaser," he snarled. "I'm going to bend you over that desk and ram some hot dick up your ass."

With a swift movement that took Joe completely by surprise, Kate spun out of his grasp. One foot left the floor and shot out toward him. A younger Joe Hammond might have been fast enough to dodge the kick but the years had taken their toll. A high heel landed squarely on his sternum. All the air whooshed out of his lungs and Joe crumpled to the carpeted floor clutching his stomach. He lay there gasping, hardly able to breathe. Kate followed through by dropping astride his prostate body, pinning his arms with her knees. Joe, severely winded, with a one hundred and fifty pound lieutenant sitting on his chest, lay helplessly while he desperately tried to suck enough air into his lungs.

As he gradually regained his breath Joe stared up at Kate. Her face wore an enigmatic look, almost smiling but not quite. Unsure what to make of it, he didn't struggle, didn't attempt to throw her off, just lay there breathing in the fragrance of her scent mingling with the warm body odor. It was a powerful aphrodisiac and, despite the pain in his stomach, he felt the stirrings of sexual arousal in his loins.

"Just because I'm dressed like a whore" she said "doesn't mean you can treat me like one. And as for ramming a cock up my ass you can forget it but maybe you should kiss my ass." With that, she quickly changed position, so that she was astride him facing the opposite way, toward his feet. She sank back onto his face. When she turned she had released his arms and Joe now raised his freed hands to grip her hips and support enough of her weight so that she did not smother him.

The heady aroma of warm scented nylon and pussy was driving Joe wild. Open mouthed his hot breath played over Kate's panty clad flesh. He began to lave her with his tongue. Within a few moments the nylon was sodden and Joe was sure it wasn't just from his saliva. He sensed an almost imperceptible relaxation in Kate's muscles and a quickening in her breathing. His fingers plucked at the nylon material, pulling it aside to allow his tongue access to the hot wet flesh beyond. As he did so he was thinking of an old joke... What did the knickers say to the panties? I may have my ups and downs but I'm never contemptuously thrust aside.

As Joe's tongue darted and flickered, he soon became aware of the effect it was having on the woman squatting above him. Her breath was now coming in short explosive gasps accompanied by loud sobbing groans. When he felt her fingers tugging at his zippered fly, he exulted in the knowledge that her arousal was beyond the point of no return. As his cock sprung free of its confinement, he groaned ecstatically when her long delicate fingers wrapped around the hot rampant flesh. When she rocked forward, he knew she was about to take him into her mouth and he trembled with anticipation. His wildest dreams were about to come true. He thought of all the months she had been driving him wild with her coquettish behavior, how she had teasingly wriggled her bum at him. But now he had that firm sexy ass in his hands with his face buried in her sopping wet pussy and she was ready to close her soft full lips over his thrusting cock.

It was now that Joe exercised more will power than he ever had before in his entire life. Resisting the overwhelming desire to feel his aching flesh in her warm wet mouth, he pushed her forward while sliding backward and out from under her. Arms wrapped around her waist, he rose to his feet lifting her with him. It took all of his strength to lift her one hundred and fifty pounds in this way, then he staggered the few feet that separated him from the edge of his desk and laid her face down across it. He pressed down on the small of her back with one hand while, with the other, he gripped the waist band of her panties and yanked them down over her hips.

Raising a foot between her legs he stepped on the panties and pushed them down to the floor. Moving in close, he kicked her feet apart and taking his cock in his free hand he stroked it up and down the crease between her buttocks, generously smearing her with his lubricant and her own pussy juices. He parted her pussy lips and sank his cock into her but then immediately withdrew it again and directed the slime coated organ at her small puckered asshole. With both hands pressing on her back, he pinned her helplessly to the desk and, ignoring her protesting cries, he slowly but inexorably thrust into her. Gradually the sphincter muscles relaxed and Kate's protests soon changed to whimpering moans as she experienced the strangely enervating sensations that came from having her captain's cock rammed up her ass.

After a few moments Joe withdrew from the back passage and re-entered Kate's pussy. Exercising all the self control that came from age and experience, Joe treated his sexy lieutenant to a long leisurely fuck. He reveled in the sense of power he gained from hearing her loud sobbing cries as he lifted her to ever higher levels of uncontrollable lust. Even after she had attained a massive climax, he continued to thrust in and out of her at a slow steady pace until she was wracked by a series of multiple orgasms. Only when she was totally drained of passion did he allow himself to come.

As she lay across her captain's desk in a blissful satisfied stupor, his semen mingled with her juices running down her legs, Kate was thinking of how much her hitherto placid life had altered in a few short weeks. Not even in her wildest fantasies could she have dreamed of her recent adventures. First being subdued and royally fucked by two criminals followed by a gang banging from two of her sergeants and concluding with a very erotic servicing from her captain. She realized that her life would never be the same again and she shivered in delightful anticipation of what the future might bring.