Good Cop, Bad Cop

Once again, it seemed funny to me how Trish could be so confident in front of hundreds of people, with a microphone in her hand, or in front of a TV camera, but she stumbled and stammered over asking a guy to have a drink with her. As for me, if you took away the TV star, celebrity thing, she was just a very pretty girl, so who in his right mind wouldn't want to spend some time with her?

The day ended in time, and I finished my shift, and went off duty. I went home, and after a shower, I put on some jeans and a polo shirt, and took a taxi back to the hotel. It wasn't until the taxi pulled away from outside my apartment, that the reality sank in: I'm going to meet Trish Collett for a drink. It's practically a date. Then, the practical side of my brain kicked in, and told me, She's bored. She just wants someone to talk to.

I walked into the hotel, and went to the upstairs lounge, but there was a huge guy, dressed in black, with a shaved head and a goatee beard, blocking the doorway. He had a name badge on his shirt, that said his name was Dirk, and under that it said, "Security," just in case anybody got him mixed up with the guy who puts the little umbrellas on the pina colada's. I'm big enough to be a cop, but he looked like he could pick me up by the head with one hand, and crush my skull with it.

"Sorry," he said, his arms folded, like a eunuch guarding a harem, "Invite only."

"I've got an invitation," I said, looking him in the eyes.

"Yeah?" he said, looking me up and down, "Who invited you?" Then, he looked a little closer and said, "You're that cop that was here today, aren't you?"

"That would be me," I said, "Trish Collett invited me."

"Yeah, right," he said, doubtfully.

I reached in my pocket, and pulled out the security pass Trish had given me, and said, "She gave me this. Maybe I should give it back to her."

The security guy looked at the pass, and immediately, he offered me a handshake, and said, "I'm Dirk. Sorry, I was just doing my job."

"And doing it well," I said, accepting his handshake, "I'm Mark." He moved aside, and as I stepped in the door, he put his left hand behind my back, gently ushering me inside. He pointed at a bunch of people on the other side of the room, and said, "Last time I saw Miss Collett, she was with those people over there, but I'm sure you'll find her." As I walked in, and looked around, I heard Dirk saying, "Enjoy yourself." It was kind of funny how his attitude changed, the moment he saw Trish's pass.

I looked around, but I couldn't see Trish anywhere. I wondered for a moment if I should have come here in the first place, as I looked at all the TV and media types, speaking loudly, with their exaggerated gestures, some with high-pitched male voices, prancing around, and with so many people trying to be the centre of attention. To say I felt a little out of place would be a major understatement. Every now and again, a camera flash would go off, and there was an SWPTV news crew filming over in the far corner. I looked around again, trying to spot Trish, looking for that red dress, and then, I heard, "Boo!" to my left.

I turned to see Trish, jumping out from behind a pillar, with a delighted smile on her face, like a little girl. She was wearing a short denim skirt, and a sleeveless mauve top, with sandals, and her dark hair was now in a ponytail that bobbed when she moved. She looked cute, hot, sexy, she was the "girl-next-door," in fact you could run out of words to describe how she looked, but one thing she didn't look like was a TV star. "You're here," she said.

"You need to work on that boogie man thing, that wasn't scary at all," I said.

"Maybe I need acting lessons," Trish replied, her smile now ironic.

"Well," I started, "I'm no critic."

"Anyway, you're here, that's the main thing," Trish said, stepping closer. She smelt delightful, a light, sexy stylish scent. "I watched you coming in, from behind that post over there. I was impressed."

"With what?" I asked. I had no idea what she meant.

"The way you didn't take any crap from that guy on the door," she said, moving even closer.

"I just didn't want to provoke him," I answered modestly, with a wry smile.

"Would you like a drink?" Trish asked, looking over at the bar, "It's all paid for by the network, but you're off duty now, so I'm not corrupting you, am I?"

"Beer's fine," I answered, as we started walking over.

"Oh, you don't know good it is," Trish started, "to hang out with a guy who drinks beer, and isn't madly in love with himself."

We both got a beer each, and stood in a corner, drinking them as we talked, and watched everybody else. Trish pointed out a few TV personalities, and network people, dotted around the room. Everywhere you looked, there were people in weird clothes, speaking loudly, each trying to look more important than the others, and I began to understand what Trish meant about people being love with themselves. "You're a cop, right?" Trish said, turning to look at me.

"Last time I looked," I said, looking over at her pretty face, wondering what this was leading up to.

"And you rescue people, right?" she asked.

"Well, not recently," I said, "but I think it's in the job description."

"Well, rescue me from this bullshit," she said, "Let's go somewhere else."

"Where do you want to go?" I asked. The thought of being alone with Trish gave me a slight case of butterflies.

"Anywhere," she said, "maybe you could show me some of your fair city at night."

"Okay," I said, "That's easy. Let's just get outa here," as I gestured towards the door.

"Just one thing," Trish said, and she paused for a moment, like she was working out how to say this, "If you and I walk out the door together, you'll probably be on the front cover of the Daily Telegraph tomorrow." She made a kind of shrugging gesture, and said, "I know I sound big-headed saying that, but it's true."

"The paparazzi?" I asked, although I really meant it as a joke.

Trish nodded, and said, "I wouldn't put it that way, but there are still plenty of cameras here tonight." She gave me a sneaky look, and said, "But, I checked out all the doors leading out of here," as she nodded towards a sign in the far corner, marked "EXIT," and that one over there leads to an alleyway. We can sneak away and nobody will know."

"You scoped out all the exits?" I said, "Now, I'm impressed. That's what a real cop would do."

"It must rub off," she smiled, "Come on, let's get out of here." Trish and I walked over towards the exit door, like we weren't going anywhere in particular, and after a quick look around, we ducked outside into the lane. It was like something out of a movie, and once we got outside, it was almost pitch black, with the only light coming in from the end of the laneway. "Where does it lead to?" Trish said, in the dark.

"Down to the quay," I said, "It's really nice down there. You can see the city lights and the headland across the bay. Want to come down?"

"Sounds good," Trish said, and we walked towards the light. As we walked along the laneway, she took my right hand in her left hand, pulling me closer, and it was hard to believe I was walking along in a dark alley, with Trish Collett holding my hand.

We reached the end of the laneway, and walked out into the streetlights. For a Saturday night, there was hardly anyone around, and we walked across the street to look out over the water, and across at the city lights. It was late summer, and the night was mild, but there was a cool breeze coming off the water, and I noticed Trish had goosebumps on her arms.

"It's really pretty," Trish said, looking out over the water.

"I know it is," I said, looking at her.

Trish gave me a, "here we go again," look, and said, "I mean the view."

"I know," I said, smiling down at her, "But you really can't blame me. Come on, be honest."

"You're very sweet," she said, "I never knew a cop could be a sweet guy like you as well." She paused, sighed, and said, "I'd like to get to know you better, Mark, but life's kind of crazy right now. There's not a lot of time."

I felt the breeze pick up a little, and Trish said, "That wind's cool," turning her back towards it.

I looked down at her sleeveless top, and suddenly realised I could see her pink lace bra, and I said, "Your top wouldn't be keeping much body heat in."

"Well, maybe you should offer me some of yours, then," Trish said, and she put her arms around me, cuddling herself to me, and resting the right side of her face on my chest. I was standing there at the quay, being held by Trish Collett, the TV star, and I couldn't believe it was happening, but just the same, I was also a man being held by a beautiful girl, and my body started to respond, as desire uncoiled inside me. I put my own arms around her, and bent my head down, to kiss her gently on the top of her head, as I smelt the sweet, fresh shampoo smell, and the scent of her perfume.

I wondered if I had overstepped the mark, kissing her head like that, taking a liberty that may not have been offered the way I thought. Then, as I held my face against her hair, feeling the smooth skin of her left shoulder with my right palm, and resting my left hand on the small of her back, Trish turned her head upwards, to find my mouth with hers, and she kissed me, softly, gently, holding the kiss for a moment. The kiss was more gentle and warm than it was hot and sexy, and after we broke it, she held her face up, looking at my eyes, waiting for me to make the next move. I kissed her again, without speaking, once again holding the kiss, as an aching need for this beautiful woman rose inside me. After we had kissed, Trish took a breath, and just looked up at me for a moment, as though she was thinking.

"I've got a room in the hotel," she said, softly, after a short pause, "Would you like to come upstairs for a while?"

"I think I'd like that very much," I said. I felt like I was in a dream.

Trish swallowed, and said, "Two things I'd like to tell you," suddenly looking serious, but still speaking in that voice just above a whisper.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Firstly, I don't hook up with guys all the time, and have one-night stands with them." She gave me a wry smile, and added, "I just wanted you to know that."

I nodded, and said, "What was the other thing?"

She took a short, but deep breath, and said, "If you come upstairs with me, Mark, I'm not just taking you up to show you the décor." She smiled, mischievously, waiting for me to respond, and added "I just wanted you to know that, too."

"That's a shame, because interior decorating is a hobby of mine," I said, as I gently kissed her mouth again. "Don't give up your day job," she whispered, our mouths almost touching, "because comedy is not your thing."

We walked back to the hotel, with Trish holding her right arm around my waist, and resting her head against my left shoulder. As we approached the front entrance from across the street, we saw a few people out the front, and in the foyer, and two camera flashes went off in quick succession. "Now, the trick is to get upstairs without anyone knowing," Trish said, quietly, and she looked up at me, and added, "Unless you want to be in next week's New Idea."

"There's a side entrance," I said, "The night manager showed me one time when I was here taking a report of a burglary," I said, "No-one uses it after dark." I took Trish to the side entrance, and we slipped in, and found the service elevator. We stepped inside, and she hit the button for her floor. "Are things always this complicated for you?" I asked.

"Sometimes," Trish answered, and she looked up, and pointed at a security camera in the corner of the elevator. "You could still end up in the papers," she said, flashing me that mischievous, little girl smile. We stopped at Trish's floor, and she stepped out of the elevator, and made sure the coast was clear, before I got out and joined her. We walked to her room, and she unlocked the door, and we went inside. Her suite was in the executive section of the hotel, and was moderately impressive, with a queen size bed, and a small bar.

As soon as we were inside, Trish turned on her heels to face me, and said, "Now, we're alone, and nobody knows we're here." Trish was a beautiful girl, and I was a healthy, red-blooded young man, but suddenly, the reality of where I was, and what I was doing, hit me. I was alone with a beautiful television star, in her hotel room, and she wanted to take me to bed. I'd had one-night stands before, but never like this. I got serious butterflies for a moment, and Trish said, "What's the matter? Are you okay?"

I was a cop, trained and experienced in taking charge of situations, but suddenly, I felt like a young guy, going to bed with a woman for the first time. "I'll be honest with you," I smiled, then I swallowed, and said, "I can hardly believe I'm here with you."

"Honest is good," Trish said, stepping closer, looking delicious in that short denim skirt, and sleeveless top, with her hair in that cute little ponytail, smelling delicious, with that sexy scent she was wearing, and she put her right hand on the back of my neck, and said, "You know what?" as she shook her head, "I haven't done this for a long time, and I'm nervous, too." She swallowed, and said, "If you take away all the other stuff, we're just two people. You're a guy, and I'm a girl, and I like you, and I think I'd like to go to bed with you, and I think you want to go to bed with me, too, don't you?"

I nodded. "It's funny," I said, "Kind of odd," I continued, hesitantly, "But, even though I really only met you today, I feel like I've known you longer." I shrugged, hoping I didn't sound like some star-struck loser, adding, "It's weird."

Trish sighed, and said, "I know. That happens in my job." She paused, and gently bit her lower lip for a moment, and gently stroked my chest with the back of her left hand, and said, "I only met you today, but, I'll tell you something." She made eye contact, and continued with, "I kind of wish I'd known you longer." She moved her right hand down, and put both arms around my waist, and said, "If we're both nervous, we'll just have to be gentle with each other, won't we?"

"I'll be as gentle as you like," I said, and then I kissed her pretty mouth, and added, "unless you tell me otherwise."

"I like the sound of that," Trish answered. She looked back at the bed, and looked at me again, without speaking. I took her left hand and led her to the bed, and we walked up to the right side. "Hold me," Trish whispered, resting her head on my chest.

I put my arms around her again, and she tilted her head, offering her mouth to me. My nerves were forgotten, as I kissed her, holding the kiss, taking control, keeping it gentle, but holding it until I was ready to break it. With our faces close enough for me to feel Trish's breath on my own face, she said, "I like the way you did that."

"I kind of liked doing it," I said, "and I have every intention of doing it again."

"Well, don't let me stop you," she whispered in reply. I kissed her again, and her mouth was a little more open this time, so I offered a little tongue, which was accepted graciously. We kissed gently, exploring each other's mouths, as I felt myself becoming more excited by the minute. We broke for air, and Trish released me from her embrace, and gently pushed me against the bed, so I sat down. She knelt between my legs as I sat on the edge of the big, queen size bed, and we kissed once more, but this was a hot, sexy, lover's kiss. This was a kiss between two people who were about to make love.

Trish put her hands behind my neck, holding my face to hers, not that I wanted to go anywhere, as we kissed hungrily, me sitting on the bed, as she knelt between my legs.

With our mouths still locked together, I put my hands on her waist, just above her hips, lifting a little, and she took the weight on her legs, as I leaned back, to lie across the bed. Trish lifted herself, so as I lay back, she knelt on the bed, straddling me, while my legs hung over the side.

We broke our kiss, and Trish lifted her head, and with a delighted smile, she said, "Now, I've got you in my clutches, Mark Stockton, and you're not going anywhere until I've had my way with you."

"Not that I'd even think of trying to escape," I said, as I reached up and unzipped her skirt at the back.

"O-o-oh," Trish said, grinning, "Taking liberties now, are we?" as I pulled at the hem of her short skirt, feeling it slide down her bottom and come loose. She reached back with her right hand, and released her right leg from her skirt, and then did the same with her left, before dropping her skirt on the floor. I saw she was wearing a pair of black lace bikini briefs, and I gently placed the palm of my right hand on her bottom, caressing her firm buttocks through the lace material. "Mmm, that's nice," she said, and then she looked back at my legs dangling over the bed, as she straddled me, and said, "Are you comfortable like that?"

The truth is, I would have put up with a lot of discomfort to be with her, even though I wasn't uncomfortable at all, but Trish climbed off me and scooted to the middle of the bed, and lay on her left side, facing me. "Come over here," she said, "where it's more comfy," and she put her palm flat on the bed and rubbed it. I slid over and lay on the bed, with my head on the pillow, and Trish moved over to kiss me on the mouth, holding the kiss as she resumed her position, straddling me the way she had done on the side of the bed, only now I was lying on the bed properly.

I wasn't sure where to start again, but I put my right hand back up to her bottom, and resumed caressing her with it, feeling for the cleft between her buttocks through her panties. I ran my fingers up and down her cleft a few times, barely reaching her pussy, as we kissed, our tongues gently venturing forward to explore each other's mouths, inhaling each other's breath, and fanning each other's desire. I very gently moved my right hand down to the crotch of Trish's panties, and I felt the warmth from her pussy through the thin material.

My hand's explorations were not lost on Trish, and she looked me in the eyes, as I touched the most intimate parts of her body through her underwear. "Careful," she said, "If you start something, you've got to see it through." She smiled, as if there would be any turning back now. I felt for the side of her panties, and gently worked the first finger of my right hand inside, feeling her soft pubic hair and then the moist, warm and slick wetness of her pussy. Trish shuddered a little, and then kissed me again, her mouth feeling warmer now, and she whispered, "Keep going."

I placed my left palm gently onto Trish's right buttock, as the finger of my right hand very gently, teasingly, explored her pussy, not probing, but just gently parting the inner lips, feeling the warmth and the wetness. Then, I slipped my left hand inside her pants, and caressed the smooth skin of her right buttock at the same time.

"You're very wet," I said, speaking softly.

"That's because of what you're doing to me," Trish answered. She braced herself with her left hand, and, still straddling me, she reached down with her right hand, and gently touched my hard tool through my jeans, and said, "And I'm not the only one getting excited here." She put her right hand back down on the bed, regained her balance, and leaned forward, to kiss me again, as I ever-so-gently moved my finger inside her panties, caressing her moist pussy, while my other hand caressed her buttock. After the kiss, Trish leaned back just slightly, and half-closed her eyes, took a soft breath, and exhaled half if it, and said, "What you're doing feels so good, Mark. It's so gentle, but it feels so good."