The Lady Cop Ch. 02

Chapter 02 - Police Brutality

Officer Collins knew she was in trouble. Driving back to the precinct at the end of her afternoon shift she took the long route, not wanting to face Lieutenant Spikes. He would be angry, as usual, and she would probably have to fall back on a little sex appeal to get out of it, but when allegations of police brutality made the news there was always hell to pay. She was just doing her job, so what if some scumbag wound up in the hospital? Especially when he had a gun.

She parked her blue and white police cruiser in the fenced off lot behind the modern brick central station. Collins felt the eyes of a few incoming and outgoing cops, but they steered clear, not wanting to be tagged guilty by association. Except for Officer Rogers, of course, he loved busting her chops. He caught her coming down the hall towards the locker room and broke into a wide grin. "Hey Collins," he said, "You really bust both that guys' hands? Jesus Christ, you fucking bruiser!"

She gave him a sweet smile, flipped him the bird and told him to, "Fuck off." She couldn't stand Rogers, a good officer but a real sexist. He hated female cops and did everything in his power to make them feel inferior. It was guys like him who made her try extra hard. Then again, regular tough for Stacey Collins was way beyond that of the average cop, despite her looks. If there was a vicious call or violent crime she wanted to be their first and after five years on the force she thought she had earned some respect. Until it came to jerks like Rogers.

After a quick shower she dressed in her street clothes: white sneakers, black sweats, and a gray t-shirt under a black leather jacket. Not much different than her uniform. She brushed her blonde hair back, shaking it all out after twelve hours tied up under her hat. It was almost down to her shoulders now and she was liking the length. In the mirror she put on a little makeup, looking extra pale due to the fluorescent lights, but her body looked solid. For some reason her chest looked a little bigger today, maybe it was the t-shirt?

Well here goes nothing, she thought, pushing through the locker room door into the squad room. Within two steps she heard "Collins! My office! Right Now!" Lieutenant Spikes yelling silenced the office for a second before the usual hum of the workplace started back up. He stood at his office door, a tall black man with close cropped graying hair, almost thirty years on the police force. He slammed the door behind her.

"Why do you do this to me, Collins?" his tone was calmer in the privacy of his office and he sat down behind the desk. "This is the third complaint on you in the last two weeks! It's all over the news. I've got the brass up my ass. What happened?"

"Lieutenant, my report shows the suspect, who was positively identified as the man who had just robbed two people at an ATM machine, beating one of them severely in the process, appeared to have a gun hidden in his pants and he was reaching for it while resisting arrest. I used my flashlight and struck the subject only in order to protect myself and subdue him." That sounded pretty good, Stacey thought, I'm getting better at this.

But Lieutenant Spikes disagreed. "So you cracked his skull open, broke both his hands in multiple places and his lawyer says his spine's all out of whack. Probably going to cost the department a shitload to settle. That's two things that get my ass chewed out, Collins: Losing money and bad p.r.."

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm just doing my job. If the brass want to settle that's not my fault."

"Bullshit, Collins! You're taking things to another level. A level we can't afford."

"Oh, I see," she frowned. "So Rogers is out there smashing up how many vehicles this year, three so far? Him and his buddy Lukas put that dealer in a coma last month, remember that? Beat him half to death on the street in front of witnesses and the video's all over the internet. And he's-"

"Enough!" Spikes raised a hand. "You don't think he's on thin ice here? This isn't about Rogers, it's about you. I know you're out there in the shit, but this is too much."

"But," she wanted to protest the double standard but knew it wouldn't fly with him. That's fine, she thought, just file that one away with the rest of the sexist department bullshit. If she ever decided to sue, Stacey could retire to a nice hot beach and spend her days in a bikini instead of a cop uniform.

"Stacey, please!" Spikes sighed. "You know I like you. Your dad and I worked together a long time. When he retired he asked me to look out for you. But this has got to stop. You gotta take it in a couple notches, let the other guys get in there first, keep your name out of the papers. So here's what I want you to do."

"Please don't say it!" Stacey batted her eyes at him but it was too late.

"Two weeks vacation. Relax, take a trip, go get drunk, I don't care, just stay out of trouble. You're a good cop and I don't want to lose you, so go blow off some steam and come back fresh."

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry I let you down," she hung her head. So much for sex appeal saving the day.

"Don't worry about it. Now get out of here and I'll see you in two weeks." Spikes watched her go, hoping his words got through to her. She was his best female cop, sexy as hell too, and she was tough and she got the job done, but circumstances dictated he be hard on her this time.

Out in her personal car in the lot, a new black Dodge Charger, Collins fumed. Two weeks? She was being punished, plain and simple, just for being tough and a girl. When she got stressed Stacey usually took it out at work, but now she didn't even have that. It wasn't fair, guys like Rogers got away with murder, and here she was forced to go on vacation over a couple broken hands. Guilty broken hands at that.

"Face it girl," a voice inside her said, "You need to get laid." As she drove out of the parking lot away from the precinct, she called Thomas on her cell phone. He only lived a couple blocks away and she hoped he was home. It went right to voicemail, a short message saying he was out of town through the weekend. She hung up. They had only been together a dozen or so times since he moved into that condo downtown and even though she missed him right now, Stacey was too tough to admit it. Sex with him was so good, though. He had a big dick, he knew how to use it, and he could go for hours, but their schedules rarely matched up.

"Fuck it," Stacey said, flooring the car down the street. She headed to the gym, thinking a post shift workout might do the trick. On a Friday evening the gym was pretty dead, the civilians primed for their happy hours and dinner dates and club hopping. She hung her coat on the rack by the door, ready to hit her routines hard. As she walked past the weight area she saw a few guys lifting, a lanky nerd with scrawny arms, a middle aged bald guy with a beer gut, and the bodybuilding guy who was always there.

She called him "Sven" because he looked Nordic, with short cropped blonde hair and light blue eyes, well over six feet tall, arms like cannons, huge neck muscles, and a chest like a beer barrel over super huge and defined abdominals. His legs looked like small tree trunks. She scowled like she usually did as she went by the guys. She hated being hit on at the gym, but her eyes lingered over "Sven" for a moment. In the mirror along the wall she checked herself up and down. She would never be a model, not with her wide hips and short stature, but what she did have were some well defined curves that were all muscle. Strong legs, big butt, smaller boobs, and perfect toned arms. Five days a week at the gym kept her that way and she knew she was more than sexy.

The cardio area was mostly empty too, a couple old cows grinding along on the ellipticals at a slower pace than walking. It was a smaller gym and sometimes it was so busy you couldn't even get on a piece of equipment which really ticked Stacey off when that happened. The only reason she joined was because her apartment was less than two blocks away. She hopped on a stair climber, set the timer to thirty minutes on the maximum difficulty and hit go. The gym blasted annoying Top Forty dance music so she concentrated on her reflection in the mirror on the wall.

Twenty minutes in the sweat was pouring, her short legs pumping strong, just starting to feel the exertion. Stacey was disappointed her boobs didn't bounce like more well developed girls in the gym, they were too small and she really wanted to get them done. It would only cost the deductible on her insurance, but there was no way. The guys at the precinct would just give her more shit. Which made her think of why she was now on vacation and that got her steaming all over again and Stacey redoubled her effort.

In the mirror she spied Bald Beer Belly trying to look slick as he walked up the row of machines behind her. His eyes bore into her ass as she worked it up and down in her tight black sweats, two sweet cheeks swaying independently. On one hand it was gratifying, but on the other hand he was a creepy pervert who probably had a record a mile long. Of course he came up to the machine next to her, checking the controls as if he actually intended to use it and then he oh-so-casually glanced over at her with a yellow toothed smile.

"Yeah?" Stacey scowled, locking eyes with the perv.

He withered under her authoritative stare, eyes darting left and right before centering on her, still trying to smile. "Uh, hey, I'm, uh, I was wonderin' if, uh-"

She could have let him babble for awhile, hell, he admired her ass and if she was in a better mood Stacey might even let him at least give it a shot. But she was not in a good mood and he made her skin crawl. "I'm a cop," she growled, "Get the fuck away from me."

His eyes opened wide and he stuttered, backing away, beating a hasty retreat. Loser, she thought with total satisfaction. She hadn't even broke stride on the stair climber. The last five minutes were the hardest, very steep. Stacey had to really push those leg and ass muscles and she relished the burn. When it was finally over she wiped the machine down and climbed off.

She went over to the water fountain and started drinking. An uncomfortable presence entered her space and she saw it was Scrawny Boy and now he was checking her ass out. "What's up?" she shot him a mean look over her shoulder as she paused the fountain.

"Huh?" he turned beet red, instantly perspiring. "Just, uh, water?"

"You fucking pervs are ruining this gym," she said, hitting the water button and drinking some more. He slinked off towards the locker rooms. That made her feel better too. She made her way over to the vertical leg press machine, watching Sven do body lifts while she loaded her weight. The muscles in his back bulged and rippled as he went up and down, legs and butt solid, straight and strong.

Stacey got down on her back, ass out and legs spread with her feet up in the air against the pedals, it was an odd, vulnerable position but the benefits of the exercise were amazing. After the workout on the stair climber her legs were already weak. She did three sets, grunting hard to to get the last few repetitions done. Stacey rolled off, breathing deep, and Sven, sitting on the wood bench doing eighty pound arm curls, was staring at her with a smile.

"You work out hard," he nodded with approval. His arms were bigger than bazookas, muscle piled on muscle, so big they made Stacey's heart skip a beat.

"You too," she allowed herself to look him over. "Obviously."

"Yeah, I pretty much live here." It was amazing, he lifted and lowered the weights like popcorn bags, over and over and never seeming to tire out.

Stacey felt a tingle, deep inside. She had a vision of his naked body plowing into her and that decided it. She had to have him. "I bet you do," she said.

"So are you really a cop?" he asked, never letting his eyes off her. "You sure scared Billy off."

She looked around, stepping towards him. "Shhh. I'm undercover. Steroid ring. You know anything about it?"

He laughed, finally putting the weights down. "Good one. Trust me, I get all the steroid jokes. But it's all natural," he slapped his chest.

Riiiight, Stacey thought, hoping it was, knowing steroids caused performance issues in guys. "Want to prove it?" she heard herself saying.

"Anytime," he said. "My name's Steve," he held his hand out.

"Stacey," her hand disappeared in his giant mitt and she could literally feel the power emanating from this mass of muscle. "Alright, Steve, let's see who can bench press their body weight more times. Loser buys."

"I can't believe you just challenged me," Steve shook his head. He hadn't been gym challenged in years. "You're pretty cocky, you know that?"

"Let's go Stevie Boy," she taunted, loading weights on the bench press. "What are you, two-forty? Two fifty?"

"Try two seventy, little girl," Steve smirked, laying down on the bench. "I've already done my arms today, though..."

"Uh-huh, excuses, excuses," Stacey moved behind to spot him, sticking her chest out a little. "Just don't hurt yourself, okay, big guy?"

Steve lifted the barbell, pumping it up and down in smooth, even motions, maximizing his effort. He started slowing down at twelve and on sixteen he replaced the bar, huffing and puffing. His arms and chest were bursting.

"Very nice," Stacey gave him a high five. "My turn. One forty please, Steve." She laid on the bench, still warm from his body, trying to get a peek up at his package. She couldn't see much, either because it was lost in the baggy folds of his sweatpants or because she was trying to see it upside down. Stacey grabbed the barbell, brought it down and up, a little wobbly. He stepped in to spot her but she still couldn't tell what he was packing.

At number four she replaced the bar. "Darn. You win. Guess I'm buying."

Steve shook his head. "Oh man, I should've seen that coming."

Nice and dumb, Stacey thought, this is going to be fun. "Well, let's go Steve-o. I'll meet you outside." She walked off, not giving him a chance to hesitate. Stacey grabbed her jacket and went out to her car. After a few minutes she wasn't sure he was coming, then he appeared in the doorway, almost ducking to get out. Her pussy tingled again as she watched him lumber over to her car.

"Sorry," he said, "Took a quick shower. So where to?"

"Follow me, I know a place around the corner."

"Uh, sure, cool." He went over to a beat up family van and Stacey wondered if he was married. Who cares, she thought, revving the engine, waiting for him to follow. She kept one eye on the rearview, leading him straight to the parking lot of her apartment, waving him towards a spot while she parked under the carport in front of her unit in the row of two story townhouses.

"What's this?" He asked at the door.

"It's called My Place," she said. "Don't worry, I don't bite. Hard." She pushed the door open, flicking the light switch on. The hallway led to a small kitchen which looked over the open living room and a stairway leading up to the bedroom loft and master bathroom.

As soon as the door closed she turned, putting her hands on those massive arms, rising up on her toes and planting a solid, wet kiss on his lips. Steve leaned down, her tongue opening his mouth and they French kissed against the door. He lifted her easily, her softer body pressing against his hard muscles, legs wrapping around his waist as he raised her up. Stacey felt her pussy burning hot. This was exactly what she needed and she was determined to exact every bit of pleasure from this mountain of a man.

"Upstairs," she said, "Now."

Steve carried her to the stairs while she lowered her head, kissing and nibbling his neck, grinding her crotch on him. He smelled of faint sweat and exertion, his scent sending another thrill through her. She almost couldn't believe her good luck. He carried her to the bedroom, letting her slide down his body to the floor. Stacey dropped to her knees, yanking his baggy sweatpants all the way down and pulling his sneakers off. He stepped out of everything, pulling his sweatshirt up over his head as she rushed to shed her own clothes in a hasty pile on the floor.

They kissed again and she pulled him back onto the bed, her hands running down to grab his cock. It was still soft, his sack hanging low and Stacey realized with disappointment he was not hung like the horse she had imagined. It felt average. But his body was huge, he covered her almost completely, big hands pawing at her small breasts. Her nipples rang like bells under his fingers.

He rubbed down to her pussy then broke their long kiss and said, "Damn, you're really wet." Her hands massaged his cock, it was filling out now and she squeezed it hard. "Hey!" he cried, "Easy."

"I need your cock in me!" she whispered in his ear, loosening her grip but still jerking him. It was fully hard now, balls straining against the sack.

Steve grasped her legs, pushing them up into the air, spreading her wide. "So much for foreplay," he said.

"If I wanted romance I'd turn on a fucking movie," she said. Her hand shot down, rubbing her soft little pink pussy lips and clit back and forth, spreading her wetness around, unable to wait another moment.

"I need a rubber," Steve said.

"Jesus!" Stacey couldn't believe this. "The table," she nodded next to the bed. He reached to grab one from the drawer, noticing a bottle of lube and a big black dildo. She was tugging his cock again. "Come on!"

Steve fumbled with the little packet in his big hands, tearing it open, wrestling the small latex ring onto the tip of his head. Finally, he pushed his cock against her pussy, her feet up over his broad shoulders. Stacey pushed against him, and he finally worked his cock all the way inside.

With his knees planted in the bed Steve started fucking her, slow even strokes. His cock did not fill her the way she had imagined, it was average, but with her legs up in the air and his huge arms pinning her down Stacey still felt thrilled. "Come on, fuck me hard!" She urged, pushing back against him as he plunged into her.

Steve picked up the pace, his cock just reaching a nice spot inside her pussy. Her first orgasm came quick, shooting up through her. Stacey raked her fingernails across his back, crying out. "Come on," she dug her nails in harder, "Fucking pound me! I won't break."

"Ow!" Steve whined, arching his back into her like she wanted. He stopped thrusting. "That hurts!"

"Then fuck me!" Stacey moaned, withdrawing her nails and running her hands down to his chest, pinching the hard nipples atop his giant pectorals. For a second he didn't move, then she saw it click behind his eyes, the animal instinct awakening inside of him as she pulled on his nipple.

Steve gripped her tighter, smothering her in the bed, pushing her legs further back in the air, collapsing her down. His hips slammed against her and he really started pounding away, just how she liked it. "Yes!" She screamed as he set up a ferocious rhythm. She could hardly breathe with his full weight on her but Stacey didn't care. The slap of his skin faster and harder, echoing off the walls as he pistoned in and out of her felt wonderful.

Stacey came again, aided by a hand furiously diddling her clit as she watched his latex covered cock flashing in and out of her pussy. She closed her eyes, grinding her teeth, letting it wash over her body, all her troubles disappearing. Before it even subsided she felt another even more powerful orgasm building.

All of a sudden Steve slapped hard inside her, his body stiffening and he grunted, breathing hard. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed on top of her.

"Did you cum already?" Stacey couldn't believe it. They had only been fucking for nine minutes according to the clock next to the bed. Sweat poured off his body, raining down on her face and chest. He mumbled something and Stacey started pushing him off her. "Jesus, dude!"