Horner Springs Retirees #02byJackLuis©
Authors note: Horner Springs is a collective concept as discussed in thread "The Birth of Horny Town U.S.A" thread started by litfan10 in the Authors' Hangout forum. Authors who add to this town will pay at least lip service to the other Author's creations and may share characters. My contribution is part of a series of stories that will use your feedback to advance or reduce a character, depending upon how you, the readers respond. Tell me what you think.
The Policeman's Progress #1 The Policeman's Progress
Horner Springs Police Lt. Lee Johansson, had been in town more than four months and nobody had been killed, except for in traffic, and he did not cover traffic. That, it was explained to him, was Belinda Blight's department and she didn't need his assistance, "Thank you very much, and Good Day Mr. Johnson."
She was away on her scooter, so Lee yelled to her, "It Yo-Han-Son, Ms Blight!" She couldn't hear him over the scooter, but it made him feel better.
The Chief had asked Lee to try out the new Infrared Surveillance equipment that had been shipped to them from Homeland Security. Apparently, a Congressman was sure they needed at least one, maybe two of them. Lee later found out the Congressman's aid's wife was chief financial officer for the company that sold them to the Government.
Lee figured he could cover the night shift from his cruiser, rather than his desk and Lois Quartermain, the dispatcher was happy to get the brooding brown hulk out of the office.
"He need's to get laid," she confided to her before work coffee clach in the cafeteria of City Hall. "He's really smart and funny, but he's so serious all the time. I think it would be a civic service if somebody just up and screwed him until he couldn't stand it up."
"Are you volunteering?" Muriel, the town clerk asked with a giggle.
"No, not me, he's too complicated for me. I like simple men. Meat, potatoes and football. Keeps 'em out'a your hair and you get to drool over the locker room interviews." Lois said. She looked at Rachel Washington and asked, "How about you, Rachel. You look like you could use a beef injection."
Lois and Muriel laughed at Rachel's expression, which was shocked, not by the crudity, by the realization that in deed she could use some masculine company.
Rachel leaned back and began to smile. She too delighted in shocking Lois and Muriel as she said in a drawn out drawl, "Well, you know us southern girls, so loves a chocolate man."
Rachel was glad she had been able to shock Lois with that line, but as before she had shocked herself, by voicing her feelings before these women, she was forced to recognize the feelings herself.
While Lois and Muriel got over their shock in seconds and broke out in knowing laughter, Rachel was having to deal with a biological repercussion of imagining a luscious chocolate shaft reciprocating inside her. Rachel stood and said, "Well enough foolishness, almost time for work." She picked up her tray and left.
Muriel looked at Lois, "Do you think that she meant what she said?"
Lois smiled and looked at Rachel entering the ladies room, "She meant what she said, but did she know what she meant, when she said it?"
"Is that a New Age thing? I swear, Lois half the time, I don't know what the heck you're talking about." Muriel said picking up her tray.
Lois smiled and said, rising, "Then we're even Muriel. Half the time it just comes out, I think its psychic, or maybe..."
The women left and a few seconds later, Lee Johansson peeked around the edge of the door and seeing it empty, walked over and poured a cup of coffee for himself in a tall stainless steel Starbucks thermo cup. He mixed the cream and sugar to the potent brew that had seen him through many stakeouts and eons, it seemed, of looking at mug shots and MO's.
Horner Springs was tame by Chicago standards. There was more crime in a day in his old precinct, than all the time he had been here. Truthfully, he wasn't sorry he left Chicago, but he was going to have to find something other than crime fighting to think about.
Rachel tried to re-gather herself in the ladies room. She primped her hair and took her time refreshing her lipstick and the simple routine did calm her libido, a bit. She could still feel it low in her belly. The warmth and the need were ebbing as she thought about her job and she felt calm enough to take her desk at the City Crisis Center hotline.
One last look at her hair, she smiled at herself and thought, "Rachel Washington, you're hot and sexy, and Mr. Lee 'YO-Han-Son' just might be the answer to the burning need you feel." She caught a small flaw in her lipstick and corrected the edge with her fingernail. "There, ready to face the world again," she thought and exited the rest room.
He had had several opportunities to dip his wick since he had been here, but he had been cautious. Maybe he was looking for something different than just a one-night stand? "No," he decided quickly, "I could use a good slow comfortable screw," he thought as he sipped the coffee and turned.
Rachel came out of the rest room, just then looking down at her nails; she glanced up and saw Randy Leroy, ("don't call me Johnson"), Johansson himself standing at the coffee counter. She squeaked as her need, throbbed, down low in her belly.
When she squeaked, Lee choked on his scalding hot coffee, the potent brew erupted from his nostrils as his body rejected the idea that it could accept the scalding coffee while trying to support a Johnson erection that had suddenly reacted to Rachel's luscious, some might say, overstuffed body, but not Mr. Johnson. Oh no, Mr. Johnson, thought Rachel, a Rubinesque Cherub, dipped in extra dark chocolate.
The pain of the hot coffee exiting his nostrils at high velocity ended the rising of Mr. Johnson, about as fast as it took the coffee to hit the floor.
Lee came out of the locker room dressed in his spare uniform, the silk suit needed cleaning after he had blown scalded snot all over it, right in front of that bodacious Rachel Washington.
As he went to the parking lot behind police station, he wondered about her. She seemed nice and friendly, as she had helped him swab up most of the mess. Fortunately, he hadn't spilled his coffee cup too. "It's those Swedish reflexes," he thought. He'd always had good reflexes.
Mr. Johnson stirred as he started the engine of the Ford Cruiser. 425 Hp and 200 Mph tires they had told him. The rumble from the exhausts was somewhat invigorating after driving that 'POS' Dodge Shadow in Chi town.
He backed out and drove out through town, the rumble of the engine seemingly filled the streets with the sound of justice as Lee drove slowly through much of the down town, checking shops and pulling into the Knight Market to get a few granola bars and fill his thermos.
The kid behind the counter looked up and grinned as Lee entered, "Hi Lt. Yohanson," the kid came around the counter, "Here let me wash out your thermos; I just made a fresh pot of Colombian French roast."
"Thanks, It surprises me that, here we are in Horner Springs and you're serving Columbian French roast and not, I don't know, Folgers or Farmers like the truck stops."
The kid smiled, "With the University and the Institute in town we cater to an upscale market. We sell a lot of fancy vodkas too, and well stuff I never even heard of."
Lee selected his granola bars and glanced at the latest issue of "Rowdy Cowgirl" that lay open to the 'spread' next to the cash register.
"Mighty pretty, in a blond sort of way, but too skinny," Les thought as the kid filled his thermos and wiped it down. "Not like Rachel Washington," he thought, she had some nice big hooters and "an ass like a brewer's horse" Lee remembered that line from "The Young Lions" a war novel. He always thought it was funny, but he did appreciate some booty, "and Rachel's uniform trousers were, showing hers were . . ."
"That all you want Lt.?" the kid said, looking at him and grinning. "She's a real looker isn't she?"
Mark, the kid, evidently was not a Philosophy major.
Lee looked up at Mark and grinned, "If you like silicon and paint. Real women don't generally look that good, I've found." He smiled, "Although," he nodded knowingly, "you do meet one or two."
Lee paid up, drove down along the river, and crossed near the row of shops and restaurants that perched on the steep bank.
Lee drove slowly, finding the cutoff that lead up the hill that was across the river from town, just downstream from Futter College.
The trees huddled close to the gravel road that lead up to the radio shelters at the peak. A hundred foot tower supported various antennas, from WKYY, the local radio station, "Five Thousand Watts of Power! WKYY! Yeeee Haw!" to the more prosaic cellular phone antenna array that covered the valley for 40 miles. The University had a shelter of its own and the antenna array on its tower was, perhaps, more free formed than the sleek radomes of the commercial shelters.
Lee pulled over and parked when he reached the top of the hill. The road widened as it serviced the several structures. Weeds grew at the edges of the gravel but Lee ignored the weed seeds in his cuffs as he deployed the detector array on it's tripod over looking the town. Lee could see the streetlights and house lights clearly, this elevation was new to him. He had been used to seeing the town as, that big tree, or, the dildo factory's corner, up here seeing how all the elements fit was at least, entertaining.
After he had all the "screws A in the holes B," he opened the case of the display and recording unit, found the "ON" switch and pushed it, nothing happened.
He flicked on his pen light and checked the manual. "Power Supply Select Switch must be set before switching on", was listed on page thirteen!
He found the selector switch, selected "Battery" and hit the "ON" switch, the display flickered and opened into a vague series of green shadows with what seemed to be the streetlights in bright white. Lee consulted the "Spectrum Controls and Setting" page, adjusted the color temperature equalizer, and was able to eliminate the glare of the streetlights on the display while making use of their illumination of the green and blue spectrums for almost true color in patches illuminated by the streetlights. He poured a cup of coffee and sipped as he played with equipment.
It was interesting to adjust the controls and see the people appear in the bright windows, where their infrared signatures were unmasked.
Headlights came up the hill and blinded Lee for a moment until a Ford F-150 with a camper on it stopped, Lee pulled out his flashlight and shined it on the driver.
"Oh hi officer, the man called out.
Lee walked over to the truck slowly. He checked out the other passenger and saw a woman, mid forties, which matched the age of the man. He remembered what the Chief had told him of the man, Leland Games. "He always has a bottle in the truck. If it's open, arrest him, if it's sealed, confiscate it. Leland is a good man, just needs a little kick in the pants now and then."
Lee walked up to the truck, "Is your name Games?"
Leland frowned, "Yeah, have we met?"
"No, Mr. Games. I'm Lieutenant Lee Johansson. I haven't been on the HSPD long, but I have heard of you."
Leland smiled weakly, "Oh you have? I hope it was good?"
"The Chief said I should make sure you weren't drinking and driving. He said you always had a bottle with you."
"Uh, yeah I do, bottle of Jagermister, I ain't been drinking it though. I just bought it, to take home after we ... ah, after the misses and I, ah... finished up here."
Games tried to smile, but the woman, said, "Leland you give that bottle to the nice officer and let him check the seal, you've got nothing to hide."
"Listen to her Leland, she's making sense." Lee said and grinned.
"Crap, that bottle cost thirty seven dollars too." He handed out a paper bag that was twisted around the bottle.
Lee took the bag and pulled back the top to check the seal on the bottle, looked up at Leland, who was thinking of how much it cost and Lee smiled at him. "I'll tell you what, I'll put this in a mail box at the bottom of the hill and you can pick it up on your way home. That way you won't kill yourselves getting off this hill."
Games brightened up and grinned, "Thanks Officer, err, Lieutenant Johansson."
The Misses leaned across Leland and said, "Thank you Lieutenant."
Lee smiled, "You're welcome, I just want to make sure he's not drinking and driving. For all our sakes."
"I know what you mean," She said, "Well Leland, park this thing we've only got two hours before we have to pick up Sissy."
The pickup with cab-over camper trundled off to park down the way a bit from the police cruiser.
Lee walked back to his equipment and tried not to think about what Games and his Misses were getting up to as he watched Games back and fill to get the camper leveled and parked. The lights went off and he saw the glow of a cigarette in the cab.
Leland stared out at the big black cop and said, "Damn, I hope he does put it in a mail box, you never know about them boys."
Mrs. Games took the joint out of his mouth and took a short hit, then put it out in the ashtray, "Forget about it for now Leland, you've got more important things to do. But I hope he does give it back, I stuffed my new panties in the bag."
Leland turned back and said, "Gloria, why did you do that?"
She grinned and kissed him, "I know you like for me to go commando. We haven't been able to have sex, because of Sissy and I'm needy, Leland."
Leland put his arm around her and kissed her softly, "Me too. I'll sure be glad when you mother goes home, so we can get Sissy out of our bedroom."
Gloria giggled and said, "Let's just get in the back, we have just enough time to scratch the itch, before we pick up Sissy at the party." She turned and crawled through the back window of the cab, into the camper.
As she slithered through, Leland saw she had a half pint of gin in her stocking top. He reached under her skirt and fondled her bare butt as she was halfway through the window, she stopped for a moment and let him fondle her ass, then slipped on through. Leland laughed, "Gloria, you've got hot gin!"
Her face appeared in the window and she grinned, "We'd fuck just like in High School, isn't that what you said?"
Leland was laughing as he slithered through the window into the camper.
Lee panned the village section along the river, because it was closer. He adjusted the sensors so he could make out the vague cherry red blobs even through the walls of some of the older buildings. Since some of the buildings were pre-1930, by a long ways, it stressed the importance of thermal conservation to Lee,
Watching the monitor was getting monotonous, Lee allowed himself to think about Rachael Washington, well specifically, the view of her when she had squatted to wipe the floor, after she had helped Lee, get some paper towels to clean his face and swab his shirt.
She was squatted down and had looked up at him, her face was beaming and her hair, tightly held in a bun on the back of her head looked like black Thai silk. Her neck was exposed and led his eyes down into what appeared to be cleavage enough for three women.
He stared out at the streetlights, but saw only soft warm flesh, heaving with her suppressed laughter, vulnerable but confident and so damned attractive. Lee shifted his rising Johnson to one side and leaned against the car to get a closer look at the monitor. His erection was squeezed against his belly and the slick vibrating surface of the idling Turbo-powered Patrol Cruiser, so he moved back a bit easing that distraction for the moment.
Lee tried to concentrate on his surveillance but visions of Rachel distracted him. Finally, he tore down the system, put it in the trunk and sat in the car, looking at the lights of the town, sipping coffee, and trying to ignore the erection that was scorching his belly.
He took a deep breath and picked up his phone. He punched in a number and waited. The ringing in his ear bud heightened his anticipation of hearing her voice again.
"Crisis Hotline, how may I help you?" Rachel's voice answered.
He didn't know what to say, he listened as Rachel said, "I'm here to help you. Won't you tell me why you called?"
He deepened his voice and said, "I'm having a personal crisis." God that sounded lame, as lame as calling an emergency services number just to hear her voice.
Rachel's voice softened as she said, "Tell me."
"I, I can't concentrate." He said quickly and stopped.
"I know that might be a problem. When did you first notice it, Lt. Yo-hanson?" she said, there wasn't any irony, just sincerity, and maybe a little soul too. Mr. Johnson reminded him of why he called.
Lee panicked and shut down the phone. "What the hell am I doing, tying up a hotline, because I'm horny?" Then he realized he had called using his Department phone, which had calling number reporting. Her computer probably had his picture and bio displayed as soon as his call was picked up. "Damn modern technology!"
Leland and Gloria were removing each others clothes in the upper bunk in the camper. Without the camper jacks down, it wobbled around as their weight shifted the truck. Finally Leland's face was between her legs his fingers massaging her pussy, "Pour a little," he said and Gloria poured a tiny bit of gin on her mound and could feel it trickle down her labia, all warm and yet cooling as the alcohol evaporated. That didn't last long, as Leland slurped it up and continued licking, Gloria had a hard time getting the top on the bottle and so she took a good sized slug of gin before she put the top back on, shivering as the hot liquor burned her throat and Leland's hot tongue burned her pussy.
Lee Johnson sat in the car, looked at the lights, and glanced over at the pickup, which was rocking a bit. "Everybody's getting laid but me," he thought and sighed.
"Dispatch to Eagle One." The police radio channel was hot-wired to his earphone.
Lee pressed the talk button on his shoulder. "Eagle one. Go ahead."
"Status update, I sent patrol one and two over to a reported disturbance. They have it under control, but I thought you'd want to know." Lois Quartermain's voice was a little tinny, Lee noticed.
"So what was it?"
"The O'Shaunessey's were having a loud argument. Dolan asked me what anthropomorphic meant."
"How did that come up?"
"Oh Lenore was complaining that Andy was making them too anthropomorphic, and destroying the mystery and spiritual messages of color and shape."
Lee shook his head, first he didn't know who Lenore or the O'Shaunessey's were, "So it was an artistic disagreement?"
"No, I think it was something else, but you never know with them." Lois' voice sounded matter of fact, so Lee decided that it would be prudent to drop it.
"Well. Call me if you need a hand."
"Sure, Dispatch out."
Lee relaxed and chuckled at the difference between Horner Springs and the Windy City. If he had been in Chicago, there would have been at least a liquor store hold up, and a couple of muggings, while he had been setting up here. He smiled at the town spread before him and realized that he should allow himself to enjoy the calmness and beauty of Horner Springs.
Mr. Johnson reminded him of one beauty that was worth pursuing. He fondled his phone, thought about what he would say, and how it, hopefully would turn out. He called the Hot Line again.