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Officer Michelle

By: sgtklark



Michelle

Whereas some people have a skill at art and others have a skill at music, Michelle had a natural God-given talent for fornication. She was a maestro between the sheets, or on the couch, or on the carpet. If there had been an Olympic event in fucking Michelle would have taken the gold and silver medal at the same time.

Not that Michelle was overly proud of her abilities in the sack. They had been a source of embarrassment most of her adult life. Not so much her abilities at screwing, but her willingness to do it often and with a multitude of partners had caused her some social stigma. You might not even call it willingness—it was more of an inability to say the word 'no' in matters romantic. But Michelle just wouldn't spread her legs for just any stud. The stud had to ask her to. That always seemed to do the trick for her. 

She had a curious penchant for bedding guys she didn't even like, or guys she actively hated.

You see, Michelle wanted to be liked by everyone. She wanted to be popular, and respected for her professionalism and hard work. But when you are a female in the male-dominated world of law enforcement your job performance was seldom enough to garner one the respect that Michelle craved. Instead she opted for the one time-tested approach that women had used since the dawn of time—sexual receptability. 

Her vulnerability to seduction has seldom, if ever, won over any of her coworkers. Quite often it has the reverse effect. She would lose what little esteem she held in the eyes of her coworkers by giving into their carnal desires. But that did little to sway her from her inborn, instinctual impulse to jump every willing boner in the department.

You might not think this of her when you first met her. She was, on the surface, an innocent and somewhat pious girl cop. Her angelic face and Minnie Mouse voice, how she refrained from profanity and social vice, her business-like attitude about her profession would all project a picture of chaste virtue. On the surface she looked like a reluctant sex kitten, curvy, petite, with cantaloupe-sized jugs on a five-foot frame. Her dark flashing eyes and olive complexion, her raven black mane, hanging to her narrow waist (and usually tied up in a girlish pony tail or tight conservative bun) oozed sensuality. Her looks and her outward behavior seemed an odd match.

Locker room gossips about sexual conquests of Michelle spread like wild fire in the police department and Michelle's one defense against slander was her convincing and persistent ability to lie about her sexual peccadillos. When confronted with a rumor that she had slept with so-and-so she could feign offended horror at the notion, and righteously denounce the rumor as an abject falsehood. She was so proficient in her prevarications that she almost convinced not a few of her past sexual partners that they had never ever done anything of the sort.

Her defense mechanism against sexual slander worked best on her husband, Jose Velasquez. 

Jose had heard some of the rumors (by no means all of the rumors) about his wife's past and current dalliances but his trust in his spouse was absolute. He attributed the stories to professional jealousy and wishful thinking on the part of some of Michelle's male coworkers. Still, it troubled him that people would target his lovely wife with such a campaign of slander.

In fact, Michelle never had to refute an accusation of infidelity to Jose because he would never directly ask her about a rumor or gossip. He felt he would be diminished in her loving eyes but such an inquiry, and since the rumors were fatuous in and of themselves denouncement was unneeded. 

Michelle had started as the police department as a single, wide-eyed twenty-year-old police dispatcher fresh from parochial school. She had led a somewhat sheltered life, being an adored only-child of two loving parents. She had never intended on making a career out of law enforcement but had planned to work at the department as a summer before going on to college.

But as often happens on the job police work was addictive, even for a police dispatcher. The frequent adrenalin rush was as addictive as opium, and the more one was exposed to it the more one craved it.

It was during her tenure as a dispatcher that she met Sergeant Jesus Cordova.

Cordova was not anyone's idea of an irresistible lothario. Short, squat, dark, with an unremarkable face. He looked more like an illegal immigrant field worker than a police officer. But Cordova had a definite gift of gab, and was practiced at wooing the women of the department. He always seemed to say just the right thing, at just the right time, and had an uncanny ability to tell women exactly what they wanted to hear. This skill had netting him some juicy conquests during his years at the department. Another ability Cordova possessed was a ridged sense of discretion. Unlike most swordsmen Cordova could keep a secret. He did not engage in sexual braggadocio, and this trait made him seem even safer and more desirable to his frequent bed mates, particularly the married ones.

Cordova was not even remarkable as a lover. He was sufficient on the mattress, little more. But he always made a woman feel as if she was the only woman on earth for a short while, and made them feel totally and genuinely loved, and they ate it up.

Cordova's association with the young Michelle had started as harmless flirtation on slow graveyard shifts in the communication center of the department. Michelle had never experienced the awestruck attention of a male before. She felt flattered at his fawning attention and sly glances and sexual innuendos. Before long she was anticipating his appearances in the dispatch room with a girlish infatuation. 

Michelle's shift ended at 2 AM one night and Cordova asked her if she wanted to go with him on patrol, on a ride-a-long. Such ride-a-longs were common, where officers took citizens with them in the cruiser for a period of time to show them real police work. Great care was taken not to put the citizen rider in any real danger. Michelle jumped at the chance. It was a slow night and she would get a chance to chat with the object of her infatuation more privately in the comfy and intimate confines of a patrol car.

Cordova asked Michelle about a boyfriend and she embarrassingly admitted that she was not currently involved and, indeed, had never had a serious relationship with a boy before. She was quite shocked when Cordova asked her if she had ever done 'the nasty' with a man before. Afraid to admit that she was a virgin and inexperienced, Michelle just laughed off the question without a definite response.

Cordova confided that he had recently broken up with a long-time girlfriend, and was quite lonely and despondent over his situation. He carefully appealed to the young woman's maternal instinct with his tale of woe, how he had loved this woman but that she had left him, through no fault of his own. He told the beaming dispatcher how he was looking to get into a stable long-term relationship and was marriage-minded, with an eye to starting a family someday. By the time Cordova was done with his delivery Michelle was positively wet with desire. She longed to make Cordova happy, and could picture herself in an idyllic setting as the new Mrs. Cordova, bouncing little Cordovas on her knees.

When Cordova suggested they stop by Michelle's apartment for coffee she immediately sputtered her consent.

They never got around to the coffee. Cordova had the winsome young woman stripped for action within a minute of their entering the door to the small apartment. Michelle was quite nervous; this being her first time, but Cordova was very gentle and instructive.

Michelle lay back on her second-hand couch, her palms covering her large breasts, her knees locked tight and drawn up slightly to hide her nudity as best she could.

"There, there, Michelle, just relax. I will be easy with you," Cordova reassured her in a deep, lust-thickened voice.

He gently removed her hands from her jugs, revealing her large, dark areolas and her prominent, erect nipples, each as wide as a dime and jutting out her heaving chest. He gentle kissed each breast, sending ripples of energy coursing through Michelle's body. His practiced tongue glided over her plump nipples, taking each one in turn into his hot mouth and pulling on them gently with his teeth. Michelle closed her eyes and reveled in the talented attention Cordova gave to her boobs. Slowly, his kisses trailed down her flat, firm belly until he reached the upper margins of the thick bramble of her public patch. A little more forcefully now, he smiled reassuringly at the quivering Latina and pulled her knees apart, revealing her musky twat with its dark, lust-swollen labia. 

Cordova teasingly kissed her pussy lips and tickled them with the firm tip of his tongue. Michelle cooed and moaned uncontrollably, running her fingers through his wiry hair. It all seemed like a dream to the young woman. She had often pictured her deflowering in her mind, and her visions were never quite so nice as this reality. It seemed all so perfect to her, the room lit only by the clock on her stove, Cordova's husky breathing, the thrill coursing through her loins and the thumping of her heart.

Cordova found the swollen nub of Michelle's clitoris and was surprised at how prominent and distended it was. It rose almost a quarter inch beyond the apex of her vulva, pulsating gently with each beat of her heart. He playfully nipped at the bud with his teeth and tongue.

The quivering Latina lazily threw one leg over the back of the couch and let her other foot rest on the carpet. She instinctively tilted her pelvis to lend her lover the greatest possible access to her hot love pot. Cordova was making disgusting, wonderful slurping sounds as he delved deeper and deeper into her quim with his tongue.

Her first orgasm took her by surprise. A sudden wave of muscle contractions began in her belly and spread throughout her body, causing her to shake uncontrollably and whimper. Her ears filled with the thundering swish of her blood and her mind seemed to go blank, as if the only part of her that was real was her gapping vagina. She reflexively grabbed her lover's head and ground it into her crotch as her back arched off the couch cushions and she let out a low, almost-animal scream. Wave after wave of sensation pulsed through her small body until, at last, she fell back, totally limp and satisfied.

But Cordova wasn't satisfied yet.

He hastily stood up and undid his duty belt with all its equipment. It fall to the floor around his feet with a loud thud. He frantically fumbled with his pants belt buckle and zipper and jerked his uniform trousers and boxer shorts down in one motion. The half-light in her apartment revealed his fully erect manhood, tall and proud, jutting out from the thick jungle of his public hair. She marveled at the size of his pecker (it was only later that she learned, through experience, that Cordova was quite ordinary in that department). She tentatively reached out to touch it. It was unbelievably hot under her fingertips and hard beyond her comprehension. She gently ran her fingers up and down its length, feeling it throb under her touch.

Fear gripped Michelle. She knew that nothing so large could fit in that tender place in her body, which heretofore had felt nothing larger than her own finger. But she was determined to try--to accommodate his massive member in her wildly pulsating vagina.

"Are you on the pill?" she asked.

A new fear gripped Michelle. She knew she was not taking birth control, but equally knew that she had to have him inside her quickly, whatever the risks might entail.

"Yes," she bit her lip and lied.

Cordova positioned himself between her spread thighs, leaning over her. His cock disappeared from her view as she locked eyes with her new man. She could tell that he was reaching between them to aim his cock with his fist.

She felt the bulbous head of his tool make contact with her yielding, hungry pussy lips. The feeling was ecstasy. She could picture in her mind's eye the round penis head spreading her cunt lips, already copiously wet with her own juices. Then the very walls of her vagina spreading, stretching to allow him passage deeper and deeper into her belly. Her pussy seemed to have a mind of its own, sucking his organ into her body, pulling him in. She marveled at the way nature had equipped her for this moment, how her body seemed to take control away from her conscious mind. It was as if her body was on auto pilot, reacting primally, mechanically to this intruding organ. As if by reflex her legs wrapped around his hips, her calves applying pressure to his ass to urge him on, to urge him deeper. 

His breath was hot and humid against her ear, his gentle grunts filling her with new levels of wanton lust. 

When his turgid organ had reached its maximum depth, he slowly withdrew it partially then thrust in back in. Over and over, rhythmically, he moved his cock back and forth in her tight pussy. She could feel his hot, damp balls bouncing against her puckered anus with each thrust. Each splat of his balls on her ass made a sharp, wet sound.

"Oh, God!" Michelle exclaimed, relishing the feeling, the experience, of her first fucking.

Cordova grunted in response.

"Fuck me, Jesus. Fuck me good!" It sounded like someone else talking, using such base profanities. Michelle had never used such language before, and did not know where it sprang from. It was as if her intoxicating lust had momentarily given her Tourette's syndrome, yet the sound of her own sacrilege only served to heighten her pleasure.

"Fuck me with your big cock! Ewww, it feels so fuckin' good!"

On and on Cordova sunk his shank into her softly yielding body. Time seemed to lose its meaning to the young woman, only the ticking of their two hearts seemed to have any relevance. 

Her man's body went suddenly taut. He arched his back, lifted his head and gave a last mighty shove into her twat. He seemed to hang there, suspended, his body shaking as Michelle felt his organ violently twitch and jerk in her cunt. It pulsated wildly and she could feel his semen flooding her canal. Pulse after pulse shot along the length of his manhood.

The feeling and thoughts of what was happening pushed Michelle over the edge and she thrashed about with her second orgasm. She ground her pelvis against his twitching cock, moving her ass in a circular fashion against him, milking his for every drop of his jizz.

Finally, he collapsed on her body, his still-clothed chest flattening her soft breasts. He panted rapidly in her ear.

They lay like that for what seemed like an hour to the Latina. She murmured little terms of endearment into his ear in Spanish.

Slowly, Cordova began to rise and she was conscious that he was pulling his pud from her cunt. She tightly locked her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck and shoulders. She dug her nails into his back. She did not want him to leave her. She wanted to stay locked in this carnal embrace for eternity.

"I have to answer that, Michelle," Cordova grunted close to her ear.

She only then became aware of the crackling of his portable radio from its case on his duty belt.

With extreme reluctance she allowed him to remove his cock from her cunt. The sudden void in her womanhood felt sadly unnatural. He sat up and reached for his radio. He acknowledged a call from another officer for a meeting in the field. 

"We've got to go, Michelle. Reynolds needs to ask me something or tell me something."

Michelle frowned, then sat up. The movement forced a large spit of semen to spurt out of her sore vagina and land on her couch.

"Oh my, I am leaking!" she exclaimed.

Cordova quickly pulled on his pants and fetched a paper towel from Michelle's kitchenette. She dabbed at her swollen pudenda, wiping the gooey viscous material from the folds of her cunt. Her thick bush was caked with the congealed liquid.

Michelle sat demurely next to Cordova in his police cruiser. She kept her knees firmly together and hoped that any remaining spooge in her gizmo didn't soak through the wad of tissue paper she had placed in the crotch of her pantyhose. In this position, it would surely leak through to the seat of her tight uniform skirt and leave a big wet spot over her shapely ass for the whole world to see.

Cordova was parked next to Officer Reynolds's unit, driver's door to driver's door. Reynolds face was lit only from his dashboard lights but she could see him clearly leering at her. 

Michelle had not liked Reynolds from the very first day. He spoke carelessly in front of the female employees in a language that would make a veteran sailor blush. It was just disrespectful, she felt. 

Reynolds was droning on about some union issue to Cordova, a union representative. Business done, he called to Michelle, "How do you like riding Cordova's unit, Michelle?"

"Oh," she grinned sheepishly, "It has been most enlightening. I never knew how you guys worked."

"Maybe tomorrow you'd like to go on a ride-a-long with me, then? I'll show you how everything works."

Michelle was sure that Reynolds speech was laced with dirty double-entendres and innuendos, but she could not see them.

"Thank you very much, Officer Reynolds, but no thank you. If I go I think I will go with Sergeant Cordova again. He's been a big help showing me around the job."

"Just how 'big' is his help?" Reynolds chuckled.

Cordova was sitting in annoyed silence, but finally said, "Knock it off, Reynolds. Treat her with some respect."

Michelle's heart fluttered. He's defending me! What a knight in shining armor. 

"Sure thing, sarg. I am sorry, Miss Michelle," Reynolds grumbled.

Michelle rode with Cordova for the remainder of his watch. At six AM they left the department together and he took her to a coffee shop for breakfast. Michelle only ordered toast, showing her boyfriend was an economical and cheap partner she could be.

They spent the morning in her apartment fucking. Then fucking some more. And then fucking again. Finally Cordero pleaded with Michelle to let him sleep. He had to work again that night and needed his rest. His balls were throbbing painfully from the repeated drainings and his cock felt sore and raw. Michelle reluctantly let him drift off to a deep sleep, but she stayed awake several more hours just gazing at his face and the gentle rising and falling of his chest. He had made her feel so alive, so vital, and her euphoria replaced any fatigue in her mind. Her brain raced with images of their happy home, a huge family, growing old together and, of course, fucking each other silly through the years to come. She reached down to massage her swollen womb and eventually drifted off to sleep.

That night, when Michelle's shift ended at 2 AM again, she eagerly awaited for Cordova to pick her up in the department parking for another ride-a-long. She could scarcely stand still when she saw his cruiser pull into the lot.

"Do you want to come to my place for another cup of coffee, mi amour?" she immediately asked upon taking a seat in his patrol car.

"It's pretty busy so far tonight. I am not sure we can set aside another hour for 'coffee' like we did last night, Michelle," Cordova said, regret dripping in his voice.

Michelle pouted silently for several minutes. Could he be tired of me already? Isn't that how it goes with men?

Cordova did receive several radio calls that first hour. Nothing big, just drive-by's requested from some closing liquor stores.

Around 4 AM the volume of calls suddenly decreased and the radio fell largely silent. Cordova pulled the patrol unit into an abandoned oil field and shut off the engine.


Officer Michelle Ch. 02



Note: I had intended all along for this story to be multipart, but it was my first post and I didn't divide the parts up very nicely. So here is the second part.



"I guess your mouth is bigger than you stomach," Cordova chuckled, and she returned his smile shyly.

Michelle was embarrassed to look Cordova in the face. She feared that she looked like a woman who had just given a blow job, that some evidence might show on her face that she was unaware of, or that he would think less of her for having performed such an act on him. And yet she found the whole experience naughty, taboo, sexy. It made her feel oddly feminine to have performed the act for the man she loved. She hoped he had enjoyed it as much as she had.

Cordova lounged in his seat, his head thrown back, breathing heavily. His penis looked small, insignificant, barely poking out of his fly. Glossy droplets of his semen coated the surface of his pants around his shrunken cock.

"Clean me up, babe," he murmured.

Michelle dutifully searched her purse for some tissue paper and dabbed at the stains on his pants. The semen was tenacious and refused to be removed, leaving shiny wet stains on the wool of his trousers. "Try licking it," he suggested lazily.

She hesitated, then brought her tongue to the stains, adding her saliva to her cleaning efforts. She had to purse her lips and suck the material to remove the gooey fluid from the material.

As they returned to the urban area of the city Michelle offered to make breakfast for the sergeant after his shift ended. Cordova seemed reluctant, for some reason, but finally agree to meet Michelle at her apartment. She prepared him a heaping plate of chorizo and eggs, with hot buttered flour tortillas. The spent the remaining morning hours tossing in bed.

"What do you think of Sergeant Jesus Cordova, Jane?" Michelle asked a fellow dispatcher at work.

"Jesus? He's quite the ladies' man, from all accounts," Jane Gooding yawned.

"What do you mean?" Michelle asked nervously, feeling a lump growing in her throat.

"Oh, just that he's slept with a lot of the girls in the department, and who-knows how many on the outside."

"That can't be true," Michelle sputtered.

Jane regarded her diminutive coworker for a moment. She was aware she was treading on dangerous ground, given the wide-eyed look on the young woman's face.

"Oh, you know, rumors, gossip. That sort of thing."

"What have you heard," Michelle demanded in a soft voice.

"I'm sure it's nothing. You know how this place is—once a story gets started it just grows and grows. Probably nothing to it, I am sure."

"What are the rumors?"

Jane sighed in resignation. She felt protective of the naïve young dispatcher, who was just older than her own daughter.

"It has been said that he slept with Higgins, Vasquez, Wade, Riggins... let's see... Clarkson, Ojeada, Ramirez.... Oh yes, and that new girl in the evidence room—what's her name?—and Vaca and Bennent..." Jane recited the names of various female employees of the department, both sworn and unsworn.

Michelle's jaw was hanging slack. The pain in her chest made it difficult for her to breathe. 

"But you know how it goes... those are just rumors, y'know?"

Michelle's face was purple with rage and embarrassment and she spun in her chair to face away from Jane. "I guess he's a rouge, then," she murmured, as much to herself as to Jane.

Jane had worked at the department long enough to know what had happened. Cordova had been with Michelle, and the woman's inexperience and the brevity of her time on the job had left her unprepared for a prowling satyr the likes of Cordova. God knows what he had told Michelle, what stories or promises he had made to woo the winsome and unworldly girl. Jane forced a change in subject, "You'd better check on the status of unit four-oh-three, Michelle."

Michelle keyed her microphone but nothing came forth from her trembling lips. Jane then broadcast for an update from the patrol unit.

Michelle sat alone in her darkened apartment trying to sort of what she had been told by Jane. So many rumors, so many women. Some of it just had to be true. Was she just a notch on his belt? Would her name now be included in the long and incomplete list of his sexual conquests? Were people even now smirking behind her back when she passed them in the department hallways? Was Cordova bragging to his buddies in the locker room about how she moved in bed, what her face looked like during sex, what things she said in the heat of passion? She shuddered with the thought. She was angry with Cordova, but wanting desperately for him to call her, to hear his voice. In her mind she played a scenario where the phone, sitting next to her on the couch, rang, and she let would let it ring five times before answering it cheerfully. But her phone was depressingly silent the whole night.

There must be some explanation, she reasoned. If even half the stories were true then maybe it was not Cordova's fault. She knew that some of the women in the department had a reputation for being 'loose' with their morals, and had slept with any number of the officers. Maybe Cordova was more victim than aggressor. Maybe he was the one who had been used, not the women. He obviously wanted to be in a long term relationship, wanted to settle down and get married and start a family. Perhaps those sluts had acted interested in the same things in order to seduce him. That must be the answer. Cordova was too sweet and caring, too gentle to be the womanizer he had been made out to be. Still, Michelle would confront him about the rumors the next opportunity. Now, if he would just call...

Michelle returned to work the next night in a deep funk. Her ever-present smile was missing, and she hung her head and avoided eye contact with her coworkers. Her cheeks and ears burned in embarrassment still. She sat silently in the dispatch room, answering calls mechanically in a flat tone.

"Heya, babe. How are you?"

She heard Cordova's voice behind her and spun about in her chair in eager anticipation. "Hi, Jesus," she beamed. One look at his face and she instinctively knew all the rumors were lies.

"When you get off at two, you want to ride with me awhile?"

Michelle's eagerness caused her to blush. "Yes! That would be nice!"

Cordova attempted to engage Michelle in idle chit chat, but the young woman was strangely laconic. Half an hour into her ride-a-long she blurted, "Have you slept with a lot of woman, Jesus?"

Taken aback Cordova carefully considered the question and formulated his response. "I guess it depends on what you mean by 'a lot'."

"Did you sleep with Riggins? Or Ojeada? How about Clarkson?"

"That was all before I met you, Michelle. I guess I was just lonely, looking for some human warmth. I know I've made some mistakes in my life. I am not perfect. But I swear to you I haven't seen anyone else since we started dating. I love you, Michelle."

Tears welled in Michelle's eyes. She roughly threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.

"Whoa! Easy girl! I'm trying to drive here!"

"I knew it! When I heard those stories I knew that there was some reason, some explanation. I feel I know you well enough to know you're not some womanizer!" she gushed.

"I love you so much, Jesus! I know you're the man for me, and that I'm the woman for you. I can make you happy like no one else can."

"If you want to prove that," Cordova laughed, "let's go to your apartment for my meal break and spend some quality time together."

"I would love that!" Michelle giggled.

In the darkened bedroom of her apartment the two lovers were working up a sweat. Cordova lay between Michelle's outstretched legs hammering at her cunt with long, determined strokes. Michelle was moaning and squeaking and sputtering involuntary obscenities.

"Shove your cock into my pussy! Do it harder!"

Cordova did his best to comply. 

Cordova withdrew his cum-slickened cock and roughly turned Michelle around onto her belly. He pulled her rump up to his crotch level and quickly inserted his stiff cock into her yawning pussy from behind. The feeling, both physical and mental, was novel for Michelle, and she devoured the sensations. 

"Oh yes! Yes! Fuck me from behind! Fuck me like a bitch dog!" she begged. She reveled in the wet slap of his thighs on her own, the heavy feeling of his loose balls hitting her mons with each jab into her body. Michelle stretcher her hands out and grabbed the brass rods of her headrest and began pushing back against this thrusts violently. Her hard nipples were raking her bed covers and added an additional pleasure for the thrashing young woman.

"Remember when I asked you if you wanted to prove your love for me in the car?" Cordova grunted.

"Yes! Yes! I want to prove my love to you, Jesus!" Michelle screamed.

Cordova spit into the palm of one hand, withdrew his throbbing cock from her hot pussy, and rubbed his saliva over the head. He then placed the flared head of his organ against the tight rosebud of her anus.

Michelle froze. Her body tightened and fear gripped her. She knew that some women had engaged in anal intercourse but I heard that they only did it to please their lover, that it was painful and degrading. She thought that there was no likelihood that Cordova's huge penis would fit in her rectum, as tightly as it fitted in her inexperienced vagina. She began to mumble a weak protest when Cordero pushed his organ into her resisting butt hole.

Michelle gasped loudly. She could no longer protest. She could no longer speak. A sharp pain issued from her sphincter and spread throughout her body. Surely Cordova was damaging her body.

"Try to relax, babe. Take deep breaths through your mouth."

Michelle tried to comply, but her breath came in short, ragged sputtering's through clenched teeth. Tears began to form at the corners of her eyes and she almost bent the brass rods of her headrest. She lifted her knees off the best, supporting herself on her toes, trying to change the angle of his entry and ease her pain.

"You're resisting it too much. Relax!" Cordova commanded in a growl. 

Her sphincter's tight grip on his cock made his thrusts into her rectum short and shallow, as if her body was trying to eject the invader. He leaned over her back and whispered into her ear, "I love you so much, Michelle."

With these words her body relaxed slightly, and her anus loosened its grip on his cock. "That's it, baby! That's much better," he said.

His thrusts were now longer, deeper. She could feel the searing heat of his cock deep within her rectum. 

Strangely, the feeling became slowly more pleasant the more Michelle relaxed. It was a different feeling entirely from vaginal intercourse, more cerebral in many ways. The mere idea that Cordova was fucking her in the ass was sensational in itself. Michelle at once felt degraded, humiliated, and elated, ecstatic, and more filled that she had believed possible. Cordova was celebrating her body, and her pulsating ass.

She began to move her rump in an up-and-down and circular motion, the tight ring of her anus massaging Cordova's cock, clenching and releasing in waves of passion, pain and pleasure.

"You're fucking my ass!" she hissed, "You've got your hot cock in my ass! I love it! Fill me with your cum, Jesus. Cum in my tight ass!" she could hear herself moaning.

As if on cue Cordova gave one last mighty shove stuffing his cock deep into her spasming butt hole and shot a torrent of hot jizz into her bowels. She could feel the cum pulsations rippling along the underside of his rock-hard cock as he dumped his load into her.

"Aw fuck yeah! That's it! Cum in my hot butt! Fill me up!"

Cordova fell damply on her back, his heavy breathing filling her ears. She was panting, trembling, immensely satisfied.

"I love you, Jesus. I love you I love you I love you..." she whispered.

"I love you too, Michelle," he grunted, and slowly began to withdraw his softening member. Michelle clenched down on his cock fiercely, refusing to let it leave her ass.

"C'mon, doll. Let me go! I Gotta shower and get back to work!" he grinned.

Michelle lay flat on her belly listening to her lover in the shower. Her butt hole burned and felt swollen, distended, but very nice. A warmth spread throughout her gut and she imagined that his hot sperm was working its way through her body, reaching to her heart.

"You'd better get that pretty ass of yours in gear so we can hit the road again, babe," Cordova said emerging from the shower with a towel draped over his shoulders. Michelle drank in the sight of his body, stocky, muscular, his penis show shriveled and smallish appearing.

"You're going to have to go on without me, Jesus. I don't think I will be sitting for a few hours," she smiled contentedly. "I'll catch a ride to the department to pick up my car in the morning."

He gave her butt a friendly slap and dabbed at her sore anus with the towel. "Yeah, I sort of figured," she laughed.

Michelle lay there alone for a long time, relishing the slow burn in her pussy and ass. Surely this meant love, she reasoned. She had given herself to him so completely it could mean little else. She smiled and wiggled her ass, reliving the session in her head. He had probably never done that with any woman, it was too special, too personal. It was something you only shared with the one you truly loved. She hummed a happy song and drifted off to a restful sleep.

Her ass was still sore hours later as she drove her car back home after catching a ride with a patrol unit to the station. But she could scarcely wait to do it again. She pictured him sleeping in his own bed in his apartment now, imagining how he looked, what he was dreaming. She wanted so badly to call him but he did need his sleep after working the dawn shift as he did. She parked outside his apartment building and just sat there, looking up at his door. It made her happy to be even this close to him.

On Sunday morning Michelle dutifully attended mass with her parents, as was her weekly practice. For the first time she dreaded going to church. Not for the mass, but for the weekly confession to Father Fletcher. The idea never occurred to her to lie or omit her sins of the previous week. God was always watching and knew everything she had done, so there was no use. 

"Bless me father, for I have sinned. It has been one week since my last confession. I took the Lord's name in vain several times this week."

"That isn't like you, my child."

"I know, father. And there's more. I was carnal with a man several times this week."

"Is he Catholic, child?"

"I think so. He's a Mexican-American, so I assume he is."

"Go on."

"We are going to get married, so I think that might make a difference to the Lord, father."

"Sex outside the holy sacrament of marriage is frowned upon, but not the sin it once was. Fifteen Hail Marys and ten Our Fathers. Are you ready for your Act of Conrition?"

"O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest all my sins, because of thy just punishments, but most of all because they offend Thee, my God, Who art all-good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve, with the help of Thy grace, to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin. Amen."

"Now, go and sin no more."

Michelle was relieved that it had gone as well as it had. But he felt that she had lied anyway. She did not "detest" all her sins. She glorified in them. She doubted even that fucking Cordova was a sin. How could something so strong, so pure in its energy, be a sin anyway? Had not God given her and Cordova the means to enjoy each other so fully? It must be part of God's plan, she reasoned.

It continued most working nights when both Michelle and Cordova were on duty. Things would slow down on the streets around 3 AM; Michelle would get off duty and go riding with Cordova, they would stop by her apartment and screw. Or, if it was a little too active on the streets they both settled for a quick blow job in the police cruiser. Michelle was fairly content with this arrangement, but wished they could spend more time together. Their days off seldom coincided, so she never got to spend a full, uninterrupted day alone with Cordova. She so wanted to pack a picnic lunch and spend a day with him at a park, or go hiking a wilderness track, or even just go to a movie with him. Shift work was playing havoc with her love life.

Around one PM one morning police dispatch received a silent robbery alarm from one of the many liquor stores in town. Michelle made the broadcast to all units in the field, and Cordova answered that he was very near the location of the liquor store. Michelle almost blurted for him to remain active and not respond to the call, something not within the purview of a dispatcher. Cordova radioed in that he was now at the location and investigating the scene. A second and third unit, more distant, were also responding to the call.

The radio was deathly silent. Michelle could no longer just sit and stare at the microphone. She stood up and paced the dispatch center, wringing her hands helplessly, wondering what was happening. Had Cordova encountered the robber? Was he even then involved in a life-or-death shoot out with the robber.

After an eternity the radio crackled to life. Cordova reported that it was merely a false alarm—the store clerk had accidentally leaned against the panic button. The feeling or relief left Michelle physically drained, and she slumped back into her chair. A fellow dispatcher who had observed the whole scene, Mary Tite, observed dryly, "You got it bad, don't you Michelle?"

"I guess I might be a little too high strung for this job," Michelle offered.

"No. This thing you got for Sergeant Cordova. It must be serious."

Michelle came to life, her eyes flashing. "Oh yes! We love each other so. We're going to get married!"

"He...he has asked you that?"

"Well, not in so many words. But sometimes actions speak louder than words. I can read his heart."

Mary snorted. She was older than Michelle by a decade, all of it spent as a police dispatcher. "Let me tell you about these cops, honey. They think women are only good for two things—three, if they take it up the butt."

Michelle flushed. She was good for three things, apparently. She did not appreciate the base fashion in which Mary spoke to her.

"How do you know that?" Michelle demanded.

"Oh, I was once young, like you, and new to the job. I had my share of office romanced here, and they always ended the same—by being dumped by some cop with a hard dick and a wandering eye."

"They aren't all like that!"

"No, not all of them. A few a pretty decent guys, but the majority are exactly like that. And this guy—Cordova—is just like the majority."

"How do you know?"

"'cause he and I had a thing together about eight years ago."

Michelle's jaw dropped. "Wha...what do you mean, Mary?"

"He came onto me big time back then. Made me feel wonderful about myself. And the sex was good too. But about six months into the relationship I found that he was screwing two other girls at the same time as me. I was devastated. Of course I broke up with him immediately. I wasn't going to play second fiddle to some trollop, or set or trollops, for any man."

"You lie!" Michelle spat.

"Honey, I wish I was lying. I think the whole thing took me a year to get over. I never fully trusted another man after that. Oh, sure, I'm married now with two little kiddies, but I am sure the whole experience has left me jaded and a somewhat colder person than I was before."

Michelle resolved to be more careful with Cordova. She knew that he would never find a woman so sexually receptive to him as she. Just because some slut like Mary had failed to win his heart did not mean that she would likewise fail. But the thought that he might, eventually, two-time her physically sickened her. She would keep tabs on Cordova, on his free time, his days off, even his working hours.




Officer Michelle Ch. 02



One night Cordova balked at stopping by her apartment for a quick tryst. She exploded at him, "You're seeing someone else, aren't you? You've already fucked someone today, and you're too tired to fuck me now!"

Taken aback, Cordova replied defensively, "Michelle—I worked all last night, spent the whole day in court today, and had to work tonight. I am just bushed. I am sorry, but I don't think I have the energy."

Michelle immediately regretted her accusation. "I know, I was only joking," she whimpered meekly. "I know—why don't we stop by my place and I will give your oral pleasure. That won't take any energy on your part."

"Um... just the act of jazzing takes energy, babe. And the hormone rush tends to leave a guy sleepy at the best of times."

"I know. I was only joking," she said disappointedly. 

She checked his schedule the next night. She checked the subpoena book to make sure he had not been in court that day. She felt that he must be well rested. Michelle met him in the department parking lot where he delivered to her a cup of hot chocolate. As she sipped it she said, "This is so sweet and hot, but I think I would like something else that is hot and sweet in my mouth," and gave him a wry wink.

Cordova used his secret key to unlock one of the lieutenants'' offices. "I made a copy of his key when he had me take his plain car in for service a few years back," he explained.

In the darkened room Michelle feel to her knees and frantically tore open his fly, pulled out his cock and began stroking it to life. "I've been so fuckin' horny to do this!" she said gleefully. Cordova leaned his rump on the edge of the lieutenant's desk and arched his hips forward, towards Michelle's face. She could not wait until his penis was fully hard and began greedily sucking on the semi-limp member, delighting in the feeling of it hardening in her mouth.

She pulled her head off his organ and kept stroking it, letting it rub against her cheek, and looked up at his face. "Tell me you love me, Jesus. Tell me you only love me. Say it!"

"I only love you, Michelle," he groaned, his face contorted in his pleasure at her administrations.

She sunk her head on his pulsating dong and began to work her head back and forth on its length. He could feel her moans through his turgid cock. The slurpy wet sounds of her blow job echoed off the walls of the dark office. She worked his hairy balls out of his fly and began to tease them with her fingernails as she worked businesslike on his unit. He kept her eyes locked on his, reveling in the almost tortured look on his face. She tilted her head sideways to gain maximum access to him, sending his glans into the back of her throat and jamming her nose against the rough fabric of his trousers. She could feel the building climax in his cock and balls. 

Quickly Cordova pushed her head off his cock and began to furiously jack off. His first ejaculation hit Michelle squarely on her cheek with a force that surprised her. Then he shot spew on her forehead, then over her nose, and a great gob landed over one eye.

Michelle had not expected this, but the feeling was electric. It felt gloriously wicked and made her pussy twitch violently, it's juices already wetting the crotch of her pantyhose. She felt so primal, as if Cordova was marking her as his, his territory, leaving visible evidence of his passion steaming on her upturned face. She smiled broadly, relishing the feeling of the hot spew on her face.

"That's it. Cum all over my face. Don't stop cumming on me. It's so nice!" she squealed softly.

When the last spurt had left the tip of his dick her rubbed the hard shaft on her face, smearing his goo all over his cheeks, nose and chin. Michelle beamed throughout the process, holding her face out proudly for him. 

Michelle felt exquisitely feminine. It felt so cave-man to have him cum on her face like that. She could already feel the cum beginning to dry on her hot cheeks, feel it tightening on her skin. The musky odor of his semen filled her nostrils. 

He gave her face a final playful slap with his softening cock and let it dangle from his fly. Michelle ran her tongue around the edges of her mouth, collecting as much of his spooge and she could and let it play on her tongue, showing Cordova the sticky white fluid before hungrily swallowing it in a great, exaggerated gulp. Cordova looked at her with spent satisfaction, admiring the way the moonlight steamed through the office window and glinted on the glossy look on her rapturous face.

"Oh God. You're really something, Michelle. You took that like a trooper!"

She smiled proudly. "I just hope you've never done that to a trooper!"

Michelle found a box of tissue in the lieutenant's desk and dabbed at her face, wiping away his semen as best she could. Then the pair darted from the office before anyone could see them. Michelle headed to the women's locker room and studied herself in the mirror. The tissue paper had failed her, and drops of semen were still tenaciously clinging to her face. She took a tee shirt from her locked and wet it, rubbing her face vigorously to remove any trace of his passion. Now ruddy cheeked, she noticed a huge glob of semen on the light-blue dispatcher uniform shirt she wore, just over the swell of one tit. She rubbed the stain, but left a watery wet mark over her breast. A pearly white drop of his spooge also adorned her hair, standing in stark contrast to her coal-black locks. It stubbornly resisted removal and spread dangerously as she cleaned it off. Reasonably clean she reapplied some make up and returned to dispatch. On her way she ran into Officer Reynolds who, in habitually leering at her swaying tits, noticed the wet spot. 

"Somebody missed your mouth," he joked, pointing to the spot. 

"You're so disgusting, Reynolds! I just spilled a bit of hot chocolate on my shirt. That's all," she said scornfully. 

As Reynolds disappeared behind her Michelle smiled with self-satisfaction.

Three months had passed since Michelle had started dating Cordova. Well, dating might not be the correct expression. Three months had passed since Michelle had started fucking Cordova. Outside of an occasional breakfast at a coffee shop they had not done anything public. They had not attended a movie or a concert, had not gone to the mall as a couple, had not gone to a restaurant for dinner. Still, Michelle had never felt so alive, so vivacious and satisfied. She felt that their relationship was progressing toward it's evitable end, a stroll down the aisle and the taking of vows, while their friends and family looked on lovingly. She had increasingly pictured her wedding in her dreams, both waking and sleeping. She thought of a honeymoon in Puerto Vallarta could be both economical and exciting. She had taken to inspecting wedding dresses on the internet. She had even selected a stationary for their announcement. Yet, she and Cordova had not discussed marriage, but what else could this be heading for, she mused. She had confided in a few of her closest friends, non-police department types, or her unscheduled but pending marriage to a wonderful, loving man.

There was a bridal shop at the mall and Michelle had taken to spending more and more time there, perusing the latest in wedding fashions and accessories. Her big heart was all aflutter with plans and her image of her in a shining white wedding dress and Cordova in a perfect tuxedo was intoxicating to the young woman. She scarcely dared to think of the wedding night while in the store for fear that she would swoon. 

Michelle was inspecting the little plastic couples that adorn the tops of wedding cakes in the shop when something caught her eye through the display window. There, strolling down the mall, was her beloved Cordova with his arm around the shoulders of another woman. Michelle strained to try to recognize the woman. Perhaps it was a sister or cousin of her man's. When she recognized the woman Michelle's legs went rubbery. Cordova was walking in the mall quite intimately with Lynette Gold, a notorious slut from the department. Michelle felt the bile rise in her throat and her heart sink. The cherished images of her wedding shattered like glass in her mind.

Cordero and Gold paused to look into a display window of a shop across the mall from the bridal shop. Michelle had to steady herself when she saw him reach down and give the woman's ass a playful squeeze through her jeans. Then Gold laughed and kissed Cordero deeply.

"Are you alright, Miss?" Michelle heard someone ask. It was a sales girl, alarmed at the Latina's violent shaking and loss of color. Enraged, Michelle ignored her and stormed out of the shop, heading in the opposite direction that Cordova and Gold had been moving.

She could not drive. She sat sobbing violently in her car in the mall parking lot. She buried her face in her hands and felt like she would pass out. Her head was throbbing and sharp

stabs of pain shot through her brain. With tears streaming down her cheeks she managed to start her car and somehow managed to drive to her little apartment.

Michelle called in sick the next three nights. She could scarcely rise from her bed. Hunger had left her and she only drank enough water to swallow frequent aspirins. Her phone had rung repeatedly but she would not answer. She had turned off her message machine. She kept playing over and over the image of her man with that slut in the mall, him fondling the blonde's ass as he had fondled her own ass so many times. She imagined him pounding Gold in a bed someplace, lustily filling her body with his cock, a cock that Michelle had believed belonged solely to her. Cordero, manly grunting, shoving himself fully into the slim blond, throatily telling her that he loved her. Her!

Michelle did not have the energy to go out and buy some hard liquor so she could drink away the offending images. She had no alcohol in her little place.

On the third day she was awoken in midafternoon by a loud and persistent knocking on her apartment door. She wearily rose and slipped on a bathrobe and answered the door. It was Cordero, looking angry and concerned. He pushed past her and entered the apartment. He was in his jeans, and obviously not on duty.

"What's going on, babe? Why don't you answer you phone? What's wrong with you? Do you need me to take you to the doctor?" he sputtered.

Michelle knew she looked a fright—her eyes darkened by hours of crying, her hair uncombed, her make-up from three days ago smeared and spotty.

"I really can't talk right now, Jesus," she said wearily, hanging her head and sitting on the couch. Cordova sat next to her and combed her hair from her face with his fingers.

"C'mon, babe. Tell me. Tell me what's wrong," he sincerely pleaded. The dripping sentimentality in her voice made Michelle give a throaty chuckle. Her eyes flashed angrily at the started sergeant.

"What's wrong? What's wrong?! I'll tell you what's wrong. I was in the mall the other day..." she paused to gauge his reaction. A look of fear and sadness passed over his face.

"That's right, you bastard! I saw you and Lynette Gold in the mall! You fuckin' had your hand all over her ass! Oh, what a fool I've been!"

"I can explain, babe," Cordova began weakly.

"Oh, can you? This I would love to hear! What possible story can you come up with?" she glared.

Cordova tried to gently caress her face but she roughly shoved his hands away. "Don't touch me!" she snarled.

Cordova hung his head and massaged his face with his palms. "It's like this... I was afraid you'd leave me, so I spent the afternoon with Lynette."

Michelle roared with angry laughter. "That's it? That's your great explanation? You're not so hot on the fly, are you, you pig?"

"Babe, let me put you to bed..."

"You'll never see my bedroom again, Jesus! I want you out of my apartment now! Get out or I'll call the police! How would that work for your career, bastard?"

Cordova stood up. "I can't talk to you when you're like this. When you are ready to have an adult conversation you can call me."

"When hell freezes over, Jesus. That's when I'll call you, but only to discuss the weather."

Cordova slowly left the apartment. He paused a moment in the doorway, as if he was going to say something, then dejectedly shook his head and left.

Michelle felt that the meeting had gone well. She was proud of herself for not breaking down and showing any weakness. She had forcefully spoken her mind and there could be no doubt about her feelings.

She thought the best revenge would be for her to clean herself up and return to work as if nothing had happened. If their breakup had meant little or nothing to her. She would force herself to be cheerful and even civil to Cordova. She would treat him as an acquaintance, a coworker, nothing more. She would show the world that her heart had quickly healed and that she was moving on with her life without bitterness or reproach. Michelle would guard herself against future dangerous entanglements and would not become intimate with anyone from the police department ever again.

Michelle showed up for work the next evening. She laughed and joked with the girls in the locker room, but said nothing of Cordova. When she encountered Lynette Gold in the hallway, however, she could not help but scowl at the police woman, who thankfully said nothing in return.

In the guarded comments of her coworkers Michelle assumed they had heard about the break up, but were either too kind or too frightened to mention it. She dutifully did her job, trying to cleans her mind of all distractions and focusing on the police radio. 

Late into her shift Cordova meekly entered the dispatch room. As the watch commander it was one of his responsibilities to check the communications center occasionally. Michelle first became aware of his presence when he said, "How's it going, ladies?"

The other women in the room gave cautious replies but all eyes were on Michelle, who remained silent and went on typing her radio log.

"Well, looks like everything is in order," he said, and Michelle heard the door softly close.

An odd thing happened after her break up with Cordova. Actually, a series of odd things. Guys on the department were showing an increased and new interest in Michelle. Male employees she had never even spoken to were now actively flirting with the young dispatcher. Some spoke to her with a rough familiarity that she found offensive. Others were more gentlemanly, almost gallant, in their approaches. She surmised that since Cordova had broken the ice with her the wolves were gathering to feast of the carrion of their failed relationship. No one would miss a slice from a cut loaf, apparently. Michelle politely but firmly dissuaded her would be suitors but was amused at the sudden interest in her and the variety of approaches the different men took. Even married men were hitting on her, an idea she found both repulsive and strangely seductive.

One such married police officer was Raul Garza. Garza was everything Cordova was not: tall, ruggedly handsome, with an athletic build and a dazzling smile.

One night she straddled a chair next to her table in the break room. He leaned on the back of his chair for a long while, gazing into the blushing woman's eyes.

"How do you like working here, Vasquez?" he asked in a husky voice. 

"Oh, I like it all right. It has its ups and downs. But I am fitting in, I think," she giggled.

"I've been watching you. I think you're the best dispatcher we have. You seem to really care about the officers and the public."

"Why, thank you, Officer Garza."

"Please, call me Raul. Only crooks call me 'Officer Garza'."

"Alright, Raul." She smiled. 

"Have you thought of applying for the position of sworn officer, Michelle?"

Michelle laughed deeply at the question. "You are joking, right?"

"No, not at all. We need more female police officers on the department. Part of my job here is as recruiting officer, and I think you would make a bang up police officer!"

"But... I'm tiny!"

"We have a saying, 'It's not the size of the dog in a fight, but the size of the fight in a dog'. I think you have a lot of fight in you, a lot of spirit. We have some police women who are about your size already, and they do fine on the street. With all the training and equipment size isn't important—at least in police work," he grinned.

Michelle blushed even deeper.

"Listen: I have to get back to work. Why don't you stop by my desk tomorrow—say, noon—and we can go over the details. Being a cop pays a hell of a lot more than being a dispatcher, and it's a lot more fun, I can tell you."

"Okay, I will do that. Thank you Off... Raul."

The thought had never occurred to Michelle that she could be a sworn officer. The power and prestige of the job definitely had its own appeal to the young woman. She thought of herself in the dark blue uniform, handling calls, rescuing children, the recipient of the public's trust and affection. 

The next day at twelve sharp Michelle was standing before Garza's desk. She wore a loose fitting sun dress that draped on her curves and displayed her large breasts to maximum extent.

"Aren't you a picture of perfection!" Garza said, his eyes slowly undressing Michelle.

"You flatter me, Raul!" she said, laughing into her hand.

"It's my lunch hour. What say I take you out to lunch and bring along some of the paperwork for you to consider?"

"That sounds great," she said, perhaps a little too excitedly.

They took a plain car to a small diner. "They make the best burgers in town here, if you like burgers."

"Oh, I am a big fan of burgers."

"Fantastic."

As they ate Garza related the advantages of a career enforcement. He talked about the pay, the job benefits and the retirement plan. He told her about the addictive qualities of the job, the excitement, the camaraderie, the sense of accomplishment that came with the job.

"I would have to first survive the academy," Michelle said, sipping her soda.

"Oh, that a piece of cake. It has a bad reputation, but it's not hard at all. Some jerks yelling at you for a few months. You could do that standing on your head."

"Ha. Then everyone would see my panties!" she shrieked with laughter. 

Garza's eyes bore into her soul. "Now that I would love to see!"

Michelle smiled at him, jacking her straw up and down in her soda glass.

"You live near here, don't you, Michelle?"

"You already know I do, I think."

"Would you like to continue this... conversation there? You might feel more, er, comfortable."

"Sorry for the mess. My cleaning lady must have taken the day off," Michelle giggled as she led him into her apartment. But Garza wasn't looking around her apartment. His dark eyes were fixated on Michelle's. 

"Um...heh...can I get you something, Raul?"

Gently, yet forcefully, Garza took her in his arms. Her chin rested on his mid chest and she gazed into his eyes.

"My God, how beautiful you are," he whispered.

"Stop it or you'll give me a swell head!"

"Then it wouldn't be the only thing swelling here," he growled. 

"Oh my! You are a devil, Officer Garza!"

Their lips met and they kissed passionately. She felt the tip of his tongue touching her own tongue. He let his arms fall from the small of her back to her rump and he squeezed and kneaded her ass cheeks. Michelle ground her hips against him, and felt a hot bulge on her belly. 

"Oh my!" she gasped, pulling away from his lips, "I think someone down here wants to make my acquaintance!"

Returning to their kiss Michelle undid his belt and zipper and reached into his underwear. His hardening cock was coiled in his jockey shorts, aching to spring free. She obliged it, lowering the waist of his shorts until she could feel it throbbing against the fabric of her dress.




Officer Michelle Ch. 02



"You've got a big one," she crooned. He did feel somewhat larger than Cordova's. She pulled back slightly to gaze upon his up thrust organ. Unlike Cordova, Garza was uncircumcised, and the glossy wet head of his cock was starting to blossomed beyond his foreskin. His public hair was trimmed short and shaved at the base of his cock. It looked delicious to the hot Latina.

His hands had lifted the hem of her dress and were inside her panties, rubbing and spreading her ass.

"I want you so badly," he hissed.

"Then take me, silly," Michelle laughed.

Garza scooped the tiny woman up into his arms and with his erection leading the way took her to her bedroom. He gently laid her on her bed and began stripping off his shirt. His chest was chiseled and muscular, with a flat, rippled belly. Michelle lay still on the bed drinking in the vision of him stripping off his trousers, socks and shoes. At last he stood beside her in all his naked glory. Michelle rolled onto her back and held her arms above her head, smiling demurely at her new stud. Garza got on his knees at the foot of the bed and speak Michelle's legs. He pulled down her panties and began to feverishly lick her cunt lips.

"I love that you have a full bush," he said.

"Um, thanks, Raul. I like the way you trimmed your pubes too."

She clamped her eyes shut and concentrated on the feeling between her legs. Garza was obviously very skilled at this. She could feel her orgasm rising in her belly and began to buck and trash about on the bed. 

"Lick my pussy, Raul. You do it so good!" she screamed.

Garza allowed Michelle a moment for her orgasm to subside, gently kissing the insides of her thighs.

"I want your cock in my mouth," she said lazily. Garza laid beside her on the bed and put his hands behind his head, his organ pointing at the ceiling. With a devilish grin on her face Michelle positioned herself at his side and lowered her head towards his groin. She began to nosily suck his bobbing erection, taking it easily into her mouth. Garza had to move her long flowing hair to the far side of her head so he could see her lips locked around his hard on. He wanted to watch every second of her blow job. Michelle turned her head from side to side, jerking the base of his cock into her mouth with two fingers.

"I'm going to cum in your mouth, if that's okay," he moaned. Michelle merely winked her approval and kept on sucking.

When the first jet of his spunk hit the back of her throat Michelle quickly removed the cock from her jaws and vigorously worked the shaft up and down, keeping it pointed at her face. The second ejaculation hit her squarely on the bridge of her nose. More landed on her thick eyebrows and her cheeks. 

When his ejaculations subsided she hungrily sucked on his cock and kept her fist working the organ up and down into her mouth. As the spent penis began to soften in her mouth she licked the wads of goo from his pubes and balls.

She crawled up the bed to lie beside Garza and brought her lips toward him. He quickly turned his head and said, "I just can't do it. I can't kiss you with my cum dripping all over your face." Michelle only laughed and flopped on her back.

Garza raised himself on one elbow and looked down at her spooge splattered face. "You're really something, Michelle! That was exceptional!"

"I try," she chuckled.

"I mean, you're something special. You have a fantastic talent."

She smiled smugly at Garza but said nothing.

The two lovers lay fighting for breath for a long time. Finally Michelle asked him, "Do you love your wife?"

His breathing stopped and he was quiet for a long time. 

"I do love my wife. She's the mother of my two children. I really do love her."

Michelle smiled. "I'm glad. You should love your wife, after all. "

"It doesn't bother you that I'm doing this with you?"

"No. I'm not your wife, and she never needs to know."

"Can we do this again, sometime?" he asked hopefully.

"You'd better!" she said with mock anger.

"Thank God. You are the perfect little slut."

"A what?" she asked with genuine surprise.

"A slut. But I mean that in the nicest, most complimentary way, Michelle."

She considered the phrase for a while. She decided she liked the title. She was a slut, after all. She had just sucked off a married man in her bed, willingly and joyfully, and had every intention of doing it again and often. She played with the word, "Slut. Slut... I am a slut. Yes, I'm a slut! Michelle Vasquez is a little slut."

She brought her face close to his, "But you'd better never call me that in public, or to anyone else! That will be our little secret!"

Michelle submitted her application for the position of police officer for the City of San Verdugo. There was a long process involved, and it might be the better part of a year before she knew definitively if she had the job. She continued to see Garza, always at her apartment and always on the sly. She did not want his wife to find out about their affair. She did not know the woman, but did not want to cause her any harm, or to harm their two young children. She had no illusions about stealing Garza away from his wife. She loved the man, in a way, but would never want him for her own. Any man who would cheat on one wife would cheat on another, she reasoned, and she wanted a man she could be sure would never cheat on her. She never wanted to go through the jumble of emotions she had felt when she learned that her first love, Cordova, had been cheating on her. She would be very careful about her mate selection.

It was about that time that Michelle met her future husband, Jose Velasquez. 

Jose was a lateral transfer from a different police department, so he was new to San Verdugo. He was no woman's idea of a hunk. About five-foot-seven and over two-hundred pounds, he was vastly overweight. But he had a simple, honest face, broad, round and chubby-cheeked. He was good natured, and even tempered, and impossible to be made angry. When an arrestee would cuss him out, he was simply smile and say, "You don't mean all that," or "You'll be sorry you said those things tomorrow." He was perpetually cheerful and seemingly void of any vice. He did not drink or smoke and never used any sort of profanity. He quickly became popular with the officers and was liked by virtually everyone.

Michelle had no initial interest in Jose. He looked like a heart attack waiting to happen. But as fate would have it they shared a few coffees in the department break room and he could make her laugh no matter how bad she happened to be feelings at any given time. She began to develop an almost-maternal tenderness toward Jose, and it soon blossomed into a deep friendship.

When Garza took his family on a two week vacation Michelle felt increasingly horny. She was frustrated at work and bitchy to her friends and co-workers. She felt she needed a cock inside her to calm her down, and Jose was available. She invited him to dinner at her apartment.

Jose arrived with a bunch of flowers for Michelle and her heart melted at the sight. No one had ever given her flowers before. Michelle had prepared a sensible meal, low in fat and sodium, for Jose. Jose was obviously not impressed with the fare, but said nothing of it. 

After dinner they sat on the couch to watch some TV. Michelle curled up beside Jose and laid her head on his shoulders. She began by giving him little kisses on his bull neck. Jose seemed to like the attention, but did not reciprocate. In desperation, Michelle let her hand rest on his fat thigh, slowly kneading his leg through his jeans.

She whispered to him, "I want you..."

"Really? You want me?" he asked incredulously. 

She stood up and took him by the hand and led him into her dark bedroom. She began kissing him full on the mouth and she could tell he was trying to return her passion, somewhat ineffectually. She cupped his groin through his jeans and could tell he was aroused. "Let's get undressed, Jose," she implored.

She helped him off with his tank top and his jeans and shoes. He stood there clad only in his jockey shorts, his erection tenting the material. Michelle stood back and pulled her own tee shirt off, undid her firm bra and let it fall. Her huge tits rose and fell on her chest with her heavy breathing. Then she unbuckled her jeans and kicked them aside. She was no wearing panties. She stood gloriously naked in the dim light spilling in from the partially opened door.

"Let's get those shorts off," she giggle playfully. 

Michelle was disappointed in Jose's size down there. He was smaller than either Cordova or Garza, no longer than five inches, and curiously thin, considering his overall bulk. She hid her disappointment and fell to her knees and took his small cock into her mouth. She actively bobbed her head on his cock, making slurping noises as she sucked him. Jose could not believe his good fortune. Here he was, with this beautiful and willing woman. He had always dreamed it would be like this his first time.

"Uh...uh..." he groaned, his large belly shaking like so much jello. Then he squirted a jet of cum into her mouth. Michelle demurely swallowed all he had to give and she marveled at how soon he had cum.

"Sorry, Michelle, sorry," Jose croaked, his face purple with embarrassment. 

She smiled sweetly at him. "That's okay. I liked it!"

She led him to her bed and she laid down, spreading her legs. She reached around the sides of her hips and spread her brown labia. "Eat my pussy, Jose," she requested.

He positioned himself between her jutting legs and began to lap and gently chewed her pussy lips. He quickly found her hard clitoris and drew lazy circles around it with the tip of his tongue. He attacked her pussy as he would a porter house steak. Michelle could feel the effects of his excellent administrations and she pulled her knees up to her chest to fully splay her twat. He lapped greedily, persistently on her slobbering cunt. Her juices coated his cheeks and chin and dripped from his mouth. 

"Oh God, Jose! You're really good at this, aren't you?" she cooed.

Jose was unyielding in his attention to her cunt. Her body shook violently with a massive orgasm, but Jose merely paused until the apex of her climax passed, then went on liking her labia and jabbing his tongue into her hot hole. Soon, she had another orgasm, then another. Jose was a cunt lapping machine, working his tongue with the expertise borne of a lifetime of gluttony. 

"Stop!" she commanded. "Stop! I need to rest!"

Jose laid beside her, gazing over her perfect body lovingly. "Am I good at doing that?" he asked.

"Oh God yes! You're great!"

They rested awhile and she began toying with the hair on his chest like a kitten. "I'm your first, aren't I?" she giggled in a low voice.

"Yes," he replied sheepishly. "No woman has ever shown any interest in me before, like you did."

"You're my first too," she said, averting her eyes.

"Really? Oh wow. You seem so experienced. Not overly experienced, I mean, but knowledgeable."

"Thank you, Jose. Some things just come natural to us girls."

"This may sound silly, but do you think it's possible to fall in love in one night, Michelle?"

"I know it's possible, because I just did," she replied with a winsome smile.

The series of orgasms Jose had given her seemed to recharge the young woman. She was back to her old self. People noticed at work.

"What got into you, Michelle?" asked her fellow dispatcher Jane.

"I had the most wonderful experience with a guy last night."

"Did he go down on you?" Jane interested was piqued. 

"Oh my, yes! He was very talented doing that!"

"Who was it, if I may ask? Anyone I would know?"

"Jose Velasquez, that new officer."

Jane was visibly stunned. Jose was no woman's idea of a catch, she felt. But she was not about to say anything negative about him to Michelle.

"Yes, yes...he's quite sweet," Jane said dryly.

"I'm going to see him again tonight!" Michelle beamed.

Jane tried to picture the huge man on top of Michelle. The image in her mind was not pretty and she shook her head to remove the picture.

Michelle was determined to make sure that it was physically possible for her and Jose to have intercourse. The mechanics of such a coupling were a mystery to her. That night she did not give him a preliminary blow job, heeding his quick orgasm of the previous night. She let him give her several orgasms with his mouth and then gently pushed his large head from her satisfied pussy. She spread her legs maximally, like a gymnast, and held her arms out to him.

"Come here, big boy," she said.

Jose crawled on top of her and fumbled with his penis, trying to find her vaginal opening. His huge belly was crushing the poor girl, and she found it difficult to breathe. She could feel his cock jabbing at her butt, her legs, even her belly. "Jose...Jose...I can't breathe!" she gasped.

He rolled off of her, shaking the bed violently. 

"Let's try this," Michelle said, and she straddled him. She deftly fed his cock into her soaked cunt hole and began to bound up and down on his groin. His smaller size and her yawning pussy made a loose fit, but she ground her hips on him and slid back and forth on his cock, maximizing the friction. He extended clit slid over his fat public mound sending thrills throughout her body. 

Jose grunted and she could feel his jizz leaking from her spasming hole. She leaned back and massaged her massive breasts. 

"That was nice," she said.

So it was possible, if not difficult, to fuck Jose. Michelle made up her mind—she was going to marry Jose Velasquez.

She based her decision of several factors. One, she felt a real warmth and tenderness for the big guy. She wasn't sure it was actual love, but it was good enough. She knew that Jose would never be the object of seduction from another woman. Jose was so good natured and loving she was sure he would be an excellent father to their children. And he was so naively trusting that she felt she could still get big dicked any time she wanted and he would never suspect her of infidelity.

The news of their engagement shook the department to its core. Men who had tried to get Michelle to go out with them unsuccessfully were at a loss to explain it. It caused some to engage in serious soul searching. The female members of the department thought that Michelle must be clearly, clinically mad.

As she and Garza lay sprawled on her bed one night, basking in their post-orgasmic glow, he asked her why she was going to marry Jose.

"He's a big hearted guy. He's really sweet. He loves me without condition. I know he's be a great daddy."

"Yeah, but why?"

"I love him, silly. What more reason does a girl need to marry someone?"

"I can think of about a hundred reasons, off hand."

"You're just jealous!"

"Me? Jealous of Jose? You can't be serious!"

"He's going to be with me every night for the rest of my life."

"You have a point there. That is a pleasing thought. Living between your legs would be any man's dream. Does this mean that you and I...y'know..."

"Oh, we can still see each other. Maybe not as often, but I couldn't go very long without your big dick. We'll just have to be very careful. I don't ever want to hurt Jose."

"Nor do I, and I hardly know the man. Well," he planted a sloppy kiss on her plump nipple, "congratulations on your upcoming nuptial!" 

Jesus Cordova was not happy with the blessed event. He steamed at what he considered a rebuke of his prowess. Even if he had been cheating on her he was still a better catch than the fat Velasquez. But Cordova had his own problems at the time. He had knocked up a waitress at a local Mexican restaurant, and she was making noise about them getting married. He had offered to pay for an abortion, but she was using her pregnancy to leverage a marriage with him. He was feeling trapped but could see no way out.

The letter came about four months after Michelle had applied to be a police officer for San Verdugo. "We are pleased to announce our acceptance of your application for the position of Peace Officer for the City of San Verdugo. The selection process is involved and long, but we extend our best wishes for your success."

Michelle was scheduled to attend the screening process. It was designed to weed out the unacceptable applicants as quickly and cheaply as possible. The first hurdle was the physical agility test, scheduled for the following Saturday. There would be a mile run, a 'dead-man' drag (the really used a dummy, dead men being at a premium) a grip test, a hand-eye coordination test. Applicants had to scale a six-foot wall, along with other sundry tests. 

Michelle diligently prepared for the test. Jose was more than eager to assist her in any way he could. He timed her runs, gave her moral support, rubbed down her sore limbs. She was sure she could pass all the tests, except maybe the six foot wall. She experimented with various techniques to get over a test wall. She was light, but her upper body strength was limited. She could not pull herself over the wall. She eventually achieved some success by hitting the wall at an angle after a good running start. She could get over it half the time.

The grip test was another hurdle. It was a small bracelet-sized device with a half dial on it that showed one's grip strength when squeezed. Try as she might Michelle could not resister the minmum score for passing. But with subterfuge, she felt she could pass. She would take the device, hold it up, then swing it down rapidly until it was between her fuck-strengthened thighs and give her legs a quick squeeze, then bring the device up again. If no one saw the trick she could pass this test. 

The mile run was very generously graded, and even her short legs could make the run in the required time.

Michelle appeared at the high school on the appointed Saturday for the physical agility test. There were over two-hundred applicants for the five open positions available. She wore too tight running shorts that habitually crept up the crack of her shapely ass, a crew-neck tee shirt with a tight sports bra to contain her bouncing breasts. Jose was with her to lend what support he could. Police officers manned the various tests, and the applicants could take them in any order they saw fit.

Michelle struggled over the wall with some difficulty, but made it, dropping on her butt on the other side.

The one-hundred pound dead-man drag was difficult, as Michelle only weighed one hundred pounds. By tilting her body back at an extreme angle and digging in her heels she managed to drag the dummy the necessary twenty yards.

When she got to the grip test her heart leapt to her throat. Sergeant Jesus Cordova was the grader at that event. She gulped and tried to smile sweetly. 

"Hi, Jesus."

Cordova only glared at her and admonished her on the test, explaining it in detail.

Michelle decided to abandon her earlier practiced trick, feeling sure Cordova would be scrutinizing her too closely to get away with it.



Officer Michelle



"I like to come here to think. It's very quiet, and you can see for miles in all directions—no one can sneak up on you."

The two lovers sat for a time and watched the stars in the heavens. When Michelle could stand it no longer she slid closer to Cordova on the bench seat of the patrol car and began to kiss him gently on the neck and cheek. He turned his face to hers and passionately kissed her full on the mouth.

"I think I love you, Jesus," Michelle whispered close to his ear. 

"And I love you too, Michelle, I really do."

While she was kissing him she was aware that his hands were busy at his waist. "Here. I can't wait any longer. I need your mouth on me," she said throatily. 

Michelle then saw that Cordova had undone his fly and his erect manhood just straining beyond his zipper. Again, it looked uncommonly large to the inexperienced woman. She reached for it, wrapping her slender fingers around it's girth, feeling it throb in her little fist. Michelle was not sure what she was supposed to do, so she used her hand as a surrogate vagina, squeezing and releasing the rock-hard member. She felt Cordova place his hand on hers and he guided it up and down the length of his prick.

He sucked in his breath. "That's the way, baby. Work it like that. Fuck yeah, that feels so good."

So encouraged, Michelle's hand worked the schlong faster, more firmly, while she kept kissing Cordova's face and neck. She was leaning her torso over him slightly, and could feel the tip of his cock on the underside of her clothed boob.

"Put it your mouth for me," she commanded.

Michelle froze. She was not sure she could place her mouth on Cordova's cock. The idea seemed slightly nauseating to her the young Latina. She knew that some women bragged about using their mouths to pleasure their man, but she had always thought it sounded cheap and slutty, and wholly unnatural. 

She felt his strong stubby fingers on the back of her neck and he applied some pressure to push her head down toward his groin. She resisted feebly, her head nearing his raging hard-on. 

"Jesus . . ." she protested meekly. 

"Shhhh. Don't talk. Just suck it, pleased."

At last her face was inches from the flared head of his cock. Its radiant heat glowed on her cheeks. She could scarcely make out his organ in the dim light of the dash board and her hair acted like a curtain to further cast it in the shadows. She slowly spread her bee-stung lips and extended the tip of her pointed tongue towards his glans. Upon contact she tasted his sticky thick precum that sat on the tip of his dong like a pearl. Instead of retching, Michelle found the tasted erotic. She felt so wickedly bad, like all those bragging girls in her high school. She ran her tip up and down the slit at the end of his cock, drinking in its musky scent and taste. The pressure from his hand on the back of her neck increased and his hips gave a little upward push, and the head of his cock entered her mouth. It felt larger in her mouth that she thought it looked, huge, filling, spongy and hot. She closed her lips behind the glands and gently sucked the organ.

"Oh fuck yeah. That's it. You are so good, Michelle!" Cordova growled.

Michelle forced her head down further, and felt more of the fleshy, ridged cock enter her hot wet mouth. She could feel his pulse in his cock, throbbing boldly on her tongue and palate. She worked her tongue from side to side on his cock and slowly began to rotate her head around the organ. 

"I can't believe you've never done this before. You are a natural!"

Michelle was flattered by his praise and pushed more of his cock into her oral cavity until she felt it bump against the back of her throat. She fought down an instinctual urge to gag. Her lips and chin were tickled by the rough wiry forest of his public hairs, and she realized that she had the entire length of his manhood in her mouth. Her mouth gripped his cock like a toothy pussy and she sucked greedily on him, feeling his body twitch and jerk uncontrollably. 

Michelle's own pussy was on fire, and she could feel it juicing up as her cunt lips twitch in anticipation. Her ass moved in a slow circle above her head.

"Here it comes, baby. Get ready."

A sudden gush of fluid erupted from the tip of his cock, hitting the back of her throat and spilling into her mouth. Shot after shot of cum filled her mouth, blowing out her cheeks. When she could hold no more small jets of cum shot from her tightly wrapped lips, staining the navy blue wool uniform trousers below her face.

At last his orgasm subsided and his cock merely oozed a thickening stream of cum. Michelle slowly lifted her head off his organ, trying to keep the seal of her lips on it until it popped from her pursed lips. She sat up and Cordero chucked at her sight. Her cheeks were distended like a hamsters, a thin stream of his cum leaking from her tightly clenched lips and dripping down her chin. Michelle's eyes were wide with surprise and fright.

"Just swallow it, babe, or spit it outside," he smiled.

Michelle felt as if any second the mouthful of cum would split her lips and spray over the cars interior and onto her lover. She frantically swiveled in her seat and threw open the passenger door. Hanging her head out she spat viciously, hearing the volume of cum splat on the naked earth outside her door. She spat and spat trying to remove the thick liquid from her mouth. A long knotty rope of his spooge led from her lips to the growing pool on the ground. She wiped the remnants from her lips and chin with the back of her hand.