Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ass

(Author’s Note: All characters in this story are over the age of 18 and are fictional.)

Officer Jenny, badge number 58008, pulled in front of the driveway of Longfield Dr. for a 1122: Noise Complaint and possible Domestic Dispute.

A middle-aged woman in a pink bathrobe stood on the neighboring lawn of Longfield Drive. The woman approached the passenger window of Officer Jenny’s squad car and leaned down, her hand clutching her robe closed. Her legs were exposed and bare. Officer Jenny rolled down her window.

“I’m Ms. Gladstone. I made the call.”

“I’m Officer Jenny. What’s the disturbance?”

“I was running a bath. Just as I turned off the water to get in, I started hearing screaming from next door.”

“When was this?”

“Over half an hour now. I was startled, but I knew immediately it was those boys next door. They’re rambunctious, so I didn’t think twice. Then they just kept screaming and screaming, louder and louder.”

“You think someone’s in trouble?”

“I hope not. Those boys aren’t troublesome. Just annoying. It doesn’t sound like someone in pain. Just a load of yelling. Like I said, I tried to ignore it and see if it would pass, but after five minutes I thought it best to call.”

Officer Jenny didn’t hear any screaming at the moment.

She asked, “You didn’t confront them? Try to make contact?”

“Absolutely not,” said Ms. Gladstone, clutching her robe closer.

“Seen anyone suspicious around your neighbors lately? Or any unusual activity?”

“No. They’re rambunctious, not seedy.”

Officer Jenny asked, “Did it sound violent? Like a fight? When did the yelling stop?”

In answer, a loud stream of expletives erupted from the house in question.

Officer Jenny spoke into her walkie-talkie shoulder mic. “This is Officer Jenny, car 969. I’ve just arrived at the call. I’ve talked with Ms. Gladstone who called in the complaint. Seems like a noise complaint. No sign of domestic disturbance. No need for back-up, pending further investigation.”

“Roger,” said the small speaker, the voice distorted with static. “Proceed with caution. We have squad car 407 in the area, about three miles out, in case you need back up.”

Squad Car 407. Officer Collins, an arrogant officer oblivious to proper procedure. Officer Jenny assumed he was a bullied kid who decided to become a bully as an adult. He overstepped boundaries with everyone. If someone took the bait and gave him attitude, he’d find a violation and would escort them to his backseat. Officer Jenny loathed the prick and had asked to never be partnered with him. No thanks.

“Ma’am,” said Officer Jenny, getting out of the squad car. She walked up to Ms. Gladstone. Even before her morning routine, Ms. Gladstone was an attractive middle-aged woman. Her tousled curly locks moved with the light morning breeze. Officer Jenny couldn’t see signs of a nightgown beneath her bathrobe. “You may go back inside and wait.”

Ms. Gladstone nodded and walked up her driveway. The robe belt accentuated her figure, and her hips swayed as she walked.

Another yell drew Officer Jenny’s attention. It sounded like it originated in the corner bedroom of Longfield, which had a window facing the street and a window facing what she assumed was Ms. Gladstone’s bathroom. White curtains were drawn in each window. The yelling was continuous and consisted mostly of profanities.

Officer Jenny approached the front door with her hand lightly on her belt near her firearm. The yelling grew angrier and the voice was strained with frustration. She knocked on the door with a heavy hand.

There was audible shuffling inside. A muffled voice through the door asked, “Who is it?”

“Officer Jenny of the local police.”

“Police?”

“I’m here to see about some noise complaints. And to make sure there isn’t a possible threat on the premises.”

The door opened. It stopped four inches because of a chain lock. A young man’s face appeared. He was caucasian, had green eyes and short, messy brown hair. He had gone a few days without shaving and the bald patches along his cheeks implied he was a young adult, possibly a teenager or in his early twenties. He was surprised to see Officer Jenny.

“Officer?” he said. He looked Officer Jenny up and down and closed the door. She heard him say through the door, “Hey guys, the police are here!”

The chain lock slid and rattled and the door was opened wide.

“Thank god you’re here,” he said, stepping aside. “Come in.”

“Is everything alright?” she asked.

“Yes!” he said. “Well, no. It’s a little weird to explain.”

Officer Jenny examined him. He was thin; not emaciated, but as if his diet could not keep up with his metabolism. He was six feet tall and lanky. He was six inches taller than Officer Jenny, but neither his physique nor his demeanor threatened her. He looked stressed. He wore a wrinkled t-shirt and gym shorts, and Officer Jenny inferred he had recently gotten out of bed.

She stepped inside the kaçak bahis house and he closed the door behind her.

“What is your name?” she asked.

“Lawrence,” he said. He looked at the raven-haired officer with curiosity. Her winged eyeliner emphasized her green eyes and her pale skin. She was incredibly attractive, with a long, angular face, and a strong cleft chin. She looked feminine, but her tone of voice, supported by the confidence of her uniform, was a sexy husky pitch. As the officer cased the room, he looked at her body. It was hard to tell what was hidden underneath her bulletproof vest. The pleated uniform pants were blocky and unflattering. Both of her arms, exposed from her short-sleeve collared shirt, were covered in monochrome tattoos. Her fingernails were manicured and painted glossy black.

“You live here?” she asked.

“Yes officer,” he said.”

“Who else lives here?” she asked.

“I have two roommates.”

“Where is the yelling coming from?” asked Officer Jenny.

He pointed to a hallway to the right of the living room and said, “In there.”

“Anyone hurt?”

“No ma’am.”

“Is there anything dangerous I need to be aware of?” asked Officer Jenny. “Weapons? Explosives? Anyone armed with a gun or knife?”

Lawrence noticed Officer Jenny’s hand hovering over her sidearm, and his eyes grew wide in recognition.

“No, absolutely not,” he said. “I hate guns!”

“Take a seat on the couch, please.”

“Yes ma’am, officer.”

Officer Jenny walked down the hallway. There were three doors: to the left, to the right, and center. The doors to her sides were open, revealing a messy but unoccupied bedroom and an empty bathroom. The yelling grew louder.

“This is Officer Jenny. I am armed. Do not do anything sudden.”

She wasn’t sure they could hear her over the yelling. She approached the closed door at the end of the hallway, took a deep breath, and opened it.

On the bed was a completely nude young man. Each limb was handcuffed to the bed frame. The bed covers were on the floor. On the floor beside the bed was another young man holding the handcuff attached to the captive’s right hand. He was suppressing laughter. Officer Jenny immediately pulled her sidearm but kept the muzzle lowered.

“Stop what you’re doing!” she yelled.

Both young men turned toward her. Their eyes grew wide with panic. The young man on the bed ended his tirade of yelling with, “HOLY FUCKING SHIT!”

“Step away from him!” yelled Officer Jenny.

The young man on the ground stood up and took a long step away from the bed and raised his hands. The young man on the bed tried to raise his hands as far as the handcuffs would allow.

“Don’t shoot!”

“Don’t shoot!”

The young man on the bed’s pale nude body flushed red, his freckles and sunspots fading away.

“It’s just a joke!” said the young man standing. He had dirty blonde hair in a short style combed back. He was in a black A-frame shirt and yellow shorts. Officer Jenny saw that he held a bobby pin in his hand.

“What’s going on here?” asked Officer Jenny.

“What’s going on here?” said the young man on the bed. “These fucking assholes thought it’d be funny to handcuff me to my bed while I slept. Ha-fucking-ha! Only the dumb fucking idiots didn’t check to see if they had the keys before they did it!”

Officer Jenny focused on him as he spoke. His hair was dark, almost black, and messy with bedhead. The unkempt hair and his frustration made him look boyishly cute. He had the skinny athletic frame of a swimmer or surfer. The cuts and scrapes on his legs (and the posters on the wall) told her he was a skateboarder. His cock was uncircumcised. It lay flaccid and draped down his taut balls, the tip pressing against the sheets of his bed. He had a neatly trimmed patch of pubic hair above his cock, and his balls were completely shaved, which was a strange contrast to his regular hair that looked like he was overdue for a haircut.

Officer Jenny felt her attention drifting and returned it to the captive’s ranting.

“Great joke, you bunch of dumbasses!” he said.

“It’s still funny,” said his blonde friend, laughing a bit.

“Please keep your voice down,” said Officer Jenny. “I’m here to help.”

“Oh thank god, the police are here,” he said, raising his voice. “Maybe you can shoot the locks off and I can get some shrapnel in my eye.”

“I understand your frustration right now but there’s no need for the attitude, young man.”

“See what I mean, Officer?” It was Lawrence behind her. She turned towards him. “We got ourselves into a sticky situation.” He laughed.

Officer Jenny holstered her firearm and the two men lowered their hands.

“Apologies for drawing my weapon on you,” said Officer Jenny. “This is, uh, pretty weird. I didn’t know what I was, uh, seeing.”

“No shit,” said the young man on the bed.

“Before we proceed,” Officer Jenny said, “what are your names?”

“Sean Harris,” said the bedava bahis young man on the bed, rolling his eyes. “I don’t have my wallet on me, so I can’t show you my ID.”

Lawrence and the other young man laughed.

“Tyler Baker,” said the blonde young man standing to the side of the bed.

“Lawrence, Tyler, you two can take a step back. Sean, I’m going to take a look at the handcuffs and figure out the situation.”

“The situation is fucked,” said Sean.

“I understand,” said Officer Jenny. “Thank you for your input.”

Officer Jenny sat on the bed. The full-size mattress slightly sagged with her weight.

She leaned in close and inspected the locks.

She asked, “How old are each of you?”

“Twenty one years old,” Lawrence said.

“Twenty one years old,” Tyler said.

“Twenty,” Sean said with a sigh.

“You look younger,” she said, not looking up from the lock. “These are police handcuffs.”

“Yeah? And?” said Lawrence.

“Where did you get police handcuffs?” asked Officer Jenny. “These aren’t for public use.”

“Online,” said Tyler. “eBay. They’re cheaper there. Why?”

“Nothing,” said Officer Jenny. “I guess I expected handcuffs from a sex shop. Those are more practical. Safer.”

“Oh?” said Lawrence. “That’s good to know.”

“Thanks for the advice,” said Tyler.

Officer Jenny felt the shift in their tone. A softening in their voices, or maybe slight unease.

“These are going to be harder to get off,” said Officer Jenny.

“Fuck me,” said Sean.

“But not impossible,” said Officer Jenny. “It’s a cheaper brand. Older too.”

“I tried picking the locks,” said Sean. “Can you do that?”

“No, that won’t work,” said Officer Jenny. “Although we can probably cut them. Have you looked for tools?”

“Ma’am,” said Lawrence, “We’ve just been trying to get him to calm down since he woke up.”

“And filming videos!” said Sean.

Tyler laughed but made a shushing motion with his finger.

“Do you have bolt cutters?” asked Officer Jenny.

“The landlord has a shed in the back,” said Tyler. “It’s full of tools and shit.”

“Okay,” said Officer Jenny. “Lawrence, Tyler, go check the tool shed. If both of you look, maybe we can find something quickly. Look for bolt cutters. I’ll stay here and see if I can think of alternatives.”

“How about a locksmith?” asked Sean.

“We will if it’s necessary,” she said. “You’ll have to pay, though. And it’s a weekend, which means they’ll be busier and more expensive. Plus, that’s another set of eyes on your compromised situation.”

“Do you need to radio for backup?” asked Lawrence.

Officer Jenny thought about Officer Collins showing up to assist. These young men would be brutalized with humiliation if he was called in. She didn’t think they could handle it.

“No, I don’t think that’s necessary right now,” she said.

“You’re the boss, officer,” said Lawrence.

“Officer Jenny,” she corrected. “Now go check the shed.”

They were off.

***

“Sorry for being a dick,” said Sean. “This is just really embarrassing.”

“I understand,” said Officer Jenny. Then, gentler, “I appreciate the apology.”

Officer Jenny reached an arm over Sean’s head to inspect the handcuff on his left wrist.

“Badass,” said Sean.

The comment made Officer Jenny retract her arm. Could he see down her shirt? No, of course not, she had her vest on.

She asked, “Repeat?”

“Your sleeve. Your tattoos are badass.”

“Oh. Thank you.” She went to grab the handcuff again, but thought better of it and walked around to the other side of the bed. She sat on the mattress, closer now to Sean. She leaned her head in to look at it. She could now smell Sean. He had a slight musk. Not unpleasant, like body odor, but a concentrated smell of a young man’s body.

“I don’t see many female cops with tattoos.” Sean’s voice was relaxing, becoming more casual. His frustration had ebbed away. “Especially badass tattoos like yours. Actually, I don’t see many female cops at all. Especially cops who are, well–“

Officer Jenny stayed quiet, inspecting the handcuffs. She waited for him to finish his sentence, but he did not. She moved her eyes down to his forearms, which looked strong. His thin blonde arm hairs stood on end and goosebumps raised, lowly visible in the ambient light. She could smell herself. Faint scents of body wash, deodorant, shampoo, and floral body spray commingled in the air.

She could feel Sean watching her. She couldn’t resist stealing quick glances at him. His dark eyes were open and innocent. His admiration was obvious and almost naive.

Officer Jenny turned away from Sean’s gaze and looked towards the foot of the bed to inspect the other two handcuffs. Her eyes stopped at Sean’s erect cock. It had been excited to full length and stood a rigid seven inches. It was vibrant and red. She knew from the way it throbbed that Sean’s heart was beating fast.

“Is that from kazandıran bahis siteleri embarrassment?” asked Officer Jenny, not turning around. There was hesitation in her voice. “Or from something I did?”

“…I don’t know how to answer that right now,” said Sean, his voice low.

They sat quietly.

Officer Jenny thought about inspecting the handcuffs more closely, but she could not will herself to the task. She looked at Sean’s cock. She was paralyzed with thoughts. Maybe it will just go down? She couldn’t understand the current mood. Though she maintained a calm, official exterior, inside she felt excited, embarrassed and shy. She tried to detach herself from the situation by imagining Sean’s penis as a non-sexual entity, just another appendage. A bit of light glinted in the precum developing from the tip. It was a handsome cock. Officer Jenny felt a hot emptiness stretch inside her.

Officer Jenny moved her hand with nonchalance and placed it on Sean’s cock. It was hot to the touch. Sean inhaled with surprise. Officer Jenny’s hand felt cool, small, and soft on his sensitive flesh. She held her hand wrapped on the shaft and gave it a slight squeeze. She felt a swell in response.

She removed her hand and put it to her head, ran her palm across her tightly pulled hair, and then patted the bun, as if to check and see if it was intact. A nervous reality check. She had just caught her hand acting on its own impulses and felt a tinge of shame. Why did she do that? The inappropriate touch had been unconscious, an automatic response from witnessing someone’s arousal. A young man was vulnerable and needed her help, and she accidentally groped him. Could it be considered an accident? Her body flushed with embarrassed heat.

Officer Jenny stood and adjusted herself, then quietly cleared her throat. She picked up the bedsheets from the floor and covered Sean’s midsection. His nipples were still visible, as were his goosebumps.

Officer Jenny continued her inspection. The moment of the touch, brief and casual, had passed and she and Sean. The only evidence that something had transpired were the sheets that draped Sean’s body.

***

Lawrence and Tyler returned to the bedroom with a pair of bolt cutters. They both tried to impress Officer Jenny with feats of strength, but neither of them could cut the handcuff chains. Their attempts amused her, and her laughter softened up her demeanor. She lightly ribbed them on their strength and masculinity while they huffed and puffed. They gave up and handed her the bolt cutters. She took off her vest for more leverage. She cut through each handcuff chain, starting with the ankles. She kept her grunts quiet and low and didn’t spend a bead of sweat.

As soon as his arms were free, Sean embraced Officer Jenny around the waist, the bedsheet falling to his lap.

“Thank you! You’re amazing!” he said. Realizing his infraction, he released her.

“Holy shit, I wouldn’t think you’d be so strong,” said Tyler.

Officer Jenny flexed her arms. Despite her smaller frame, her arms showed well-defined muscles.

“Don’t judge the dog in the fight,” she said and smiled.

***

“Dispatch, this is Officer Jenny, squad car 969, reporting from the noise complaint reported at Longfield Drive.”

“Go ahead,” crackled the walkie-talkie speaker on her hip.

“Situation resolved. Mostly a false alarm. I’m going to finish up my report here before heading to my lunch break.”

“Roger that, Officer.”

Officer Jenny stood in the living room. The young men were in the kitchen, grabbing drinks. Sean still wore handcuffs on each limb, but he was now dressed and jovial. They were talking in lower tones and Officer Jenny couldn’t hear them, but there was laughter and playfulness between them.

She sat on the couch with her clippad and her report form. She had put her vest back on and couldn’t find a comfortable position to sit in.

The young men strolled into the room carrying drinks.

“Do you have a boyfriend, Officer Jenny?” asked Tyler.

“Probably a big strong cop,” said Lawrence.

“Like Rambo,” said Tyler.

“Rambo wasn’t a cop, dumbass,” said Sean. “That was Cobra.”

Sean handed a seltzer water to Officer Jenny and sat on the couch. He had a seltzer water. Tyler and Lawrence sat in opposite lounge chairs, each with a beer.

“I do not have a boyfriend,” said Officer Jenny, cracking open the can. “And I don’t fuck where my money is.” Her smile was curved into a smirk. The comment made the three men’s faces tighten. Why had she said that? She was used to dealing with men, and the comment was meant to bolster her. She meant it to be funny, but they weren’t laughing. These are civilians, not fellow badges. Maybe she had crossed a line of authority. But they’re young men. Surely they are used to such language, especially amongst themselves.

“Cops make bad boyfriends,” she said, to explain herself better. “And bad girlfriends, I guess.”

The smiles returned and they guffawed.

“Don’t be like that,” said Tyler. “You’re great. How old are you, Officer Jenny?”

She took a sip of her drink and hesitated in answering.

“I’m thirty,” she said.

The number didn’t feel quite real. When did she become thirty?

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32