The 36th Precinct, affectionately known as the 'Dirty Sexed Precinct' to the officers assigned to it, was a collection of misfits, recruits, and a smattering of regulars. It was a combination of good guys and bad, mostly good. The bad consisted mostly of those officers who were charged and/or investigated of crimes, usually of a sexual nature, sometimes proven, mostly not. It was a 'dumping ground' where the department was able to keep a tighter lid on potentially troubled officers.
Where I fit into those categories is not important. For purposes of reader understanding, I offer these comments. I was assigned to the 36th for fifteen years and during that time, I heard some of the most outlandish tales, most of them true. Yet, because I was not actually present and sometimes heard these tales third and fourth hand, I freely admit that almost all of the dialect in these tales was invented in my imagination to meet the known facts. The thoughts and the 'ooooo's and ahhhh's' are almost exclusively mine, but they were not the product of whole cloth. They were added to the known facts, which are the basis for these tales, and only added for the reader's enjoyment.
The detective in this tale was only with us for about six months before he passed on. He was transferred to our precinct after telling this story to fellow officers in his prior assignment. He was never charged nor, to my knowledge, was he even investigated.
Charlene was panic-stricken. The 14-year-old girl had been unhurt in a car accident. Her mother, who had been driving, was apparently going to be treated and kept overnight in the hospital.
The policeman at the scene had written down all of the information about the accident, but now the young girl was in the police station and was being questioned by Detective Mark Bovier. Although his questions seemed gentle enough, the youngster was sure that she knew what he was doing. As usual, her mother had been on 'coke' and Charlene knew that that was the reason for the accident. However, she didn't dare tell the detective, even though she was pretty sure that he already knew. She was afraid that her mom would be put away as her father had been, and that she would be left alone. The teen was afraid for herself.
All during his gentle questioning, the young girl sobbed and cried. Mark was sure that he knew what had happened. He had seen the same story played out with different characters countless times.
"Is Momma gonna go to jail?" the youngster sobbed.
Mark could tell how much of a panic that the young girl was in and he knew why. He knew that her father was already in jail and, even though it hadn't been confirmed, he also knew that the girl's mother had been under the influence. He was the one that was going to put the girl's mother away and the youngster seemed to have a sense about that.
"Easy girl ... Calm down..." he spoke gently.
Mark watched the teen as her shoulders shook. For at least the 10th time that night his eyes again dropped and looked at the flesh of the youngster's thighs, which were so exposed in the ultra-short skirt. He had never experienced anything like this before. He was actually desirous of this young black girl and he didn't have the slightest idea why. He tore his eyes away from her legs and tried to reason with himself.
Sure, she was without a doubt the prettiest black girl that he had ever seen but ... JUST THAT! She was black and she was a girl ... a child, actually. Was he honestly thinking about fucking her? And if so, why? He really had no answer. He only knew that the youngster turned him on. He had never before had any desire to fuck a black and never before had a desire to fuck any girl so young. Yet, here he was contemplating the forbidden.
Mark knew that he had Charlene's mother's future under his control. The only questions remaining were did the youngster realize that he had the power and was she frightened enough for her own self to allow him to have his way? Throughout the hour of questioning Mark continued to hint to the youngster that he was probably going to be forced to put her mother away and he left the girl in doubt as to what might happen with her.
"Please mister, don't put Momma in jail," she pleaded.
It was getting close to midnight. He had to make a decision and go on from there. By this time he had looked over the teen's body so hard and so many times that the decision was almost an afterthought.
"Well, I'll sleep on it girl. We both know that your mother should be put away, but tonight she'll be in the hospital anyway, so I won't have to decide until the morning," he lied.
"Please no mister, please."
"I'm not going to promise you anything because I don't think I'm going to change my mind. But I like you honey, so I'll at least think about it."
Mark finished his paperwork, which covered up the fact that Charlene's mother had been doing drugs. However, he didn't tell the girl what he had done. He gave his replacement a briefing on the night. Without going into detail he told him that the girl in the chair had been in an accident and being that he was now going off duty and her house was on his way home, he would drop her off.
Five minutes later, he walked back over to the young girl and said, "C'mon girl, I'll take you home," and he extended his hand.
"But..." she said as she gave him her hand and stood up.
Mark cut her off quickly so that she didn't say anything that might get his replacement suspicious, "Just c'mon kid, we'll talk on the way."
His heart was pounding. He could not only lose his job, he could most assuredly go to jail if he went through with his thoughts. Mark was now on dangerous ground. Charlene was still sniffling and the detective put a comforting arm around her, leading her out to his car.
She sat in the passenger seat and because of the shortness of her skirt, Mark was again afforded a full view of the Charlene's legs as she sat alongside him. After starting the Acura RL, he drove out of the parking lot, turning right onto the road, his eyes flashing down to the youngster's legs, which could barely be seen in the darkness of the night.
Mark was driving in the direction of his house. Charlene's house was actually in the opposite direction of his. He had to make a final decision.
Another sob came from her throat and tears began to flow down her cheeks anew. Her shoulders twitched with her sobs. Mark nervously took his hand away from the steering wheel and slowly lowered it. Gently he placed it on the flesh of the upper part of the girl's leg, about six inches above her knee. His cock became enlarged.
"Calm down girl. It's not the end of the world," he said softly.
He could feel the heat from her leg within the palm of his hand, which was now slightly sweating. He squeezed her gently and his cock twitched inside of his pants.
Suddenly Charlene's mind began to focus. She was street smart. She realized that this man's hand was on her leg. She knew that she was a pretty girl and she remembered all of those times that she had heard that 'whitey' only wanted one thing from the sisters.
Could it be? Was this detective... ? A thousand things flashed through her young mind and she quickly calculated what was what.
"It ... It will be if ... if Momma goes to jail," she said.
"Well, you know hon," he whispered, as he squeezed her leg again, "I said I'd sleep on it. I haven't made up my mind yet."
The girl was frightened. She was sure what was happening, but she wasn't sure how she should react, "Do ... do you think you'll, er, change your mind?" she asked, nervously.
Mark's hard-on was raging. The thought of fucking this young beauty had him already past the point of no return. He allowed his hand to fall onto the flesh of her soft inner thigh, which was radiating heat. The skin was as smooth as a baby's.
Reacting in fright, her legs closed and tightened on his hand.
"Would you want me to, er, change my mind?" he asked softly.
Charlene felt the heat from his strong fingers on her flesh. She knew for sure now what he wanted to do. It was only a matter of her agreeing to go along and getting some assurance from this pig that he'd let her mother come home.
"Yes," she responded, her tone non-committal.
"You want me to do you that favor?"
"Is there any reason that I should?" he whispered.
The frightened teen made her final decision. Slowly, Mark felt the pressure from her closed thighs ease up on his hand as she relaxed her legs and parted them ever so slightly.
Mark's cock twitched furiously and as he squirmed he suddenly felt a liberal amount of wetness within his shorts.
"Are ... Are you sure that Momma won't go to jail?"
Mark was beside himself. Until now, he hadn't been sure whether the girl understood. Now he was 95% positive. Only one more thing to confirm, "You wanna stay at my house for the night... ?"
He turned and looked at her. In the darkness, the whiteness of her eyes was prominent. She nodded her assent. His hand began rubbing the girl's soft thigh.
"You promise -- Momma -- You can do it, right?"
He was driving at a quicker speed toward his house now. Then a thought came to him. She was going this far, so...
"I ... Yeah I can but, er, you understand, it all depends, right?"
"It all depends on you," he emphasized.
"I know..." she said, almost ashamedly.
"I mean this, er, what we're gonna do, er ... Let me ask hon. Are you a virgin?"
The youngster hesitated a moment, before she then shook her head faintly.
.... There is more of this story ...