Chapter 38: Fully Loaded

Mickey left the house without a word. On the drive into work, he attempted to process what had just taken place; first of all, he had sex – full-blown, banging sex – with someone who wasn’t his wife or daughter. It struck him that he did not know her name, even though her knew her to be a friend of Michaela’s and Jacy’s from school. And idea of sex with a stranger had his cock rising to full mast once again.

But right about that time, he pulled over into the 24-hour coffee and doughnut shop – his pre-work routine since his first week on the job. It did not matter what time of day it way, Mickey always began his shift with his favorite coffee (cream, two sugars) and a cruller. He walked in, wondering who would be on duty, since he knew every employee in the place, and they, him. When he saw was it was Agnes, a retired schoolteacher who filled in, his cock registered its disappointment by behaving.

“Evening, Agnes,” he said, sitting on a stool more comfortably than he’d been able to sit in his car. “Working much lately?”

“Had to, Mickey,” she grinned a grin that displayed a full set of false teeth. “All these girls are either in school or working other jobs. But they know I can’t do much more than 20 hours a week.”

“Who coming on later? I may drop by,” he asked.

“That should be Tonya and Susie,” she said, glancing at the assignment clipboard. “They’re third shift, like you.”

“Susie? Do I know her?” he asked.

“You should,” Agnes grinned again. “She’s that tiny thing. You know, the one who keeps getting carded. Also, the one who has a crush on you.”

Sproing! His cock remembered her before he did. “Oh, sure. I was kinda nervous to even flirt with her because of her age.”

“Her age, you dumb cop, is 19,” she said. “You could have looked it up. I, on the other hand, asked her directly. She even showed me her driver’s license.”

“It looked real?” Mickey asked.

“Now that sounds just like a cop,” she said. “Yes, it was real.”

The image of the petite blonde hottie was on his mind the rest of the way to the station, where he found little on his desk in the way of work. His partner, Melissa Turnbull, had extended a brief leave of absence to what he expected to be a permanent departure. That probably had something to do with a recent ill-timed blowjob she’d given him in the precinct parking lot during the shift change. But Melissa seemed relieved to be taking the suggested leave of absence, so his conscience was as clear as his desk was cluttered – meaning it was his time to deal with paperwork. With a sigh he adjusted his erection to a comfortable place and called up a report form on his desktop PC. He forced himself to focus on the job at hand, so the most tedious part of police work became a means to an end. A particularly unpleasant assault case actually allowed his dick to relax for the first time all day.

Mickey finished the last of his reports with a flourish and discovered that he had successfully killed two hours off his shift without so much as a bathroom break. And as soon as he realized it, he needed one desperately – and not just to piss. In the solitary comfort of the handicapped stall, he whizzed a fountain, then jacked himself off with a roar that actually drew a knock at the door.

“Detective McKinnon, all you all right?” came a female voice.

Shit, he swore to himself. It was Carmela, the civilian secretary for the third shift. A single mom who came on some hard times, the department hired her in a period of poor organization in record-keeping and filing reports – a job perfectly suited to her organizational skills. She often did her duties without a word, so it was easy at times to forget she was around.

“Fine,” he croaked. “Constipation.”

“Been there,” she chuckled through the door. Then, silence.

Mickey cleaned up his mess, washed his hands for far longer than necessary and splashed some water in his face. He left the restroom doing a successful impersonation of a man with a balky bowel. He smiled wanly and waved at Carmela, who was stuffing envelopes at her desk – a desk that was easily close enough to hear Mickey’s noisy orgasm. He wondered what else she’d heard there over the years from her nearly invisible station.

He returned to his desk to find a new stack of reports replacing the old. He angrily glanced over at Carmela, who shrugged apologetically. He’d only resumed working on the seemingly endless stack of files for a short time when Carmela approached his desk, manila folder in hand.

“Could you please handle this file for me?” she asked, sweet smile on her face. He nodded absently, and as she walked away towards the isolated filing room, he actually thought he caught the unmistakable scent of pussy wafting his way. He shook his head, beating himself up for being such a sex fiend – until he opened the folder.

Inside were a neatly folded pair of black lace panties. Leaning close, they shared the same scent that Carmela was putting out a few moments before.

He noticed she wasn’t at her desk. He rearranged his rampaging penis and made his way to the filing room.

She was waiting, bent over and legs unceremoniously spread, in the filing room. For some reason, the door had a dead-bolt lock and Mickey wordlessly turned the knob. When it clicked, Carmela gasped slightly. Even in the dim light, he could see how aroused she was by her glistening pussy. A tube of lube couldn’t have made entering her any easier, and Mickey remembered that she had three kids. And a husband.

But here she was, crying out in a soft voice for him to “fuck me harder, harder!” He certainly obliged, hammering her without remorse. Already aroused, it did not take long for him to deliver his payload, but he stayed hard long enough to take her over the edge as well. By then, she was grunting like a pig rutting in its pen, a most unusual sound from such a lovely woman. When she threatened to scream out her own orgasm, he stuck the panties she’d delivered to him in her mouth, muting her scream.

She took them out only to clean him up; then with a wink she pulled the sopping panties back on.

“You have no idea how much I needed that,” she said, kissing him hard on the mouth one final time before slipping out of the file room. As he returned to his desk, he was surprised – and somewhat alarmed – to realize his cock was still twitching with need.

My phone rang a few moments later, with Mickey relating in unnecessarily graphic detail his sexual encounters of that day.

“Impressive for an old, overweight cop,” I said. “So what’s the problem?”

“Larry ... has someone tampered with my settings?” he asked after a moment of hesitation. “I thought I was going to remain loyal to Jacy. But I even fucked Cassandra.”

“You mean Stormie,” I said, winking at his wife as she sat at my kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee. Her tattoo seemed to almost glow on her nude skin.

“No, it was Cassandra,” he said. “I know how confusing it is, but she was in full Cassandra passion. It was amazing.”

“Did she return to Stormie later?” I asked; this time she winked at me and silently mouthed the word, “Coffee?” I nodded and watched her walk across the floor as her husband continued to talk.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I, uh, left before she came to. I almost hope she doesn’t – does that make me a bad guy?”

“No, it makes you a guy,” I said. “Oh, that’s good coffee.”

“Oh, you got company,” Mickey said. “Sorry to bother you. I’ll get through this day okay.”

“No, hang on a second, Mick,” I said, shushing his sexy wife. “Your sex drive does seem to be elevated and the exclusivity box isn’t checked any longer. Not sure why.”

“Someone changed it, then,” he said, his voice rising.

“Not necessarily,” I said quickly. “Remember, this is an old program, and it can be fickle. Ask Todd Arnovsky if you don’t believe me.”

That brought silence from the other end, then, “Yeah, you’re right. At least I know what’s up. Can you change it back?”

“Sure. I have a program running,” I lied, “but as soon as it ends, I’ll turn things back.”

“Appreciate it,” he said. “Owe you one.”