Last Straw

Nathan Walker had never felt rage like this in his life. He'd just hung up on the phone after two hours of begging, promising and cajoling Ashley to come back to him. In the end, he didn't succeed.

That she had no feelings for him hurt but the anger stemmed from things she'd learned since leaving him.

Ashley related the details of the things Officer Amber Bateman had done to him that day so many months ago as he hung upside down and helpless on his inversion table. She told him she'd found out everything about Bateman pushing him against the car and masturbating him and how she'd pulled him over and done it again right before a domestic disturbance call came in. Ashley even knew about the night Bateman took him into the woods ostensibly to assist with a burglary investigation and jerked him off even as she sat in the car waiting for him.

"Seems you've been getting around a long time since we moved to Luvton, Nate," she'd said acidly. "You even let the EMTs have a turn at you. After all that, after you couldn't bear it any longer, you wound up fucking that tubby bitch of a cop, didn't you?"

Nate didn't bother correcting her. It was only the one EMT that'd taken him in hand--the female one.

He tried to emphasize the fact that in every single case he was coerced into doing those things. Ashley, however, had insisted on interpreting everything in the worst possible light. Nate really didn't expect otherwise. She left before she found out all that and believing the worst of him made everything easier.

For her.

Nate fumed and slept practically none that night. Amber Bateman had spilled the beans to Ashley about everything and for what? Why rub salt into this particular wound?

The next day his mind was like a bee in a jar banging fruitlessly around trying to figure things out. He'd almost cost a client quite a few thousands of dollars but caught the mistake at the last minute before the trade went through. He shut down early giving up quite a bit of commission as he stalked through the empty house.

Nathan had never been a fan of men who hit women but fantasies of backhanding the female police officer played over and over in his mind. Thoughts of ripping her uniform to shreds and pounding angrily into her looped endlessly. If he couldn't make love to a woman he cared about he would fuck the woman who'd sealed the fate of his relationship forever, fuck her like an animal.

He knew what he was entertaining. A rape fantasy. That's all it would ever be, though. Nathan was not a man capable of such an act. But to do it--to a cop--that would be the worst of all worlds and the last sex he'd ever have outside of being taken by a big bruiser of a prisoner.

At that thought, he shivered and decided it was best to spend the rest of the evening with a brown bottle.

For the next several days Nate tried to let it go. He wanted to confront Amber, wanted to find out why she'd thought it necessary to cause him such hopelessness. The logical part of his mind told him he wouldn't be satisfied with anything Bateman could say. But the emotional part wanted to call her the pig she was for doing this to him.

Four days later, the emotional side won out.

Nate sat in his car a block from the police station. It was almost three in the morning. He knew that most days, Bateman patrolled from six or so until three a.m. because that's when most crimes occurred--not that there was all that much in this tiny town that could happen.

Strange, Nate thought, that after all this time and all these trysts with the lone cop here, he never knew where she lived. Hell, he'd never seen her when she wasn't in uniform.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Even though he was handcuffed to a jailhouse cot at the time, he'd seen her completely out of uniform. In his sweatpants, Nate felt himself swell a bit at the memory of her nude, curvy body as it settled onto him.

But as her patrol car slid by his and toward the station, he had to remember why he'd come here and it wasn't to try to get back into her uniform slacks, either.

He waited ten minutes then waited ten more, time enough for her to get in the station and settle down to what he figured would be some end-of-watch paperwork. Then he slipped out of the car and moved quietly down the block and toward the station's main entrance.

Nate slipped into the main entrance of the station and into the drab, government-issue waiting room. Two hard chairs sat in front of a plain wooden desk with nothing on it except a phone and a hand-lettered sign that read DIAL 0 FOR ASSISTANCE 24 HOURS.

He strode past the desk and down the hall beyond toward a single light burning far back on the left.

"Hello?" came Amber's voice.

Nate moved into the doorway of the office. "Hello, Bateman," he said flatly.

Amber sat her papers down and crossed her hands primly on the desk and peered at him with an air of disinterest. "What brings you out at such an ungodly hour?" She gave him a once over noting his plain white t-shirt, black sweatpants, and slippers. "You causing trouble or do you have some trouble?"

"You," Nate said flatly. "You are what brings me out here at such an ungodly hour, Bateman."

Amber smiled thinly and leaned back in the chair. Nate noticed her service belt was gone and a glance around the office revealed that it hung on a hook in the corner near the door where he stood.

"Is that right? Now how is that, Nate?"

Nate gritted his teeth. "I told you the last time we were together that I was going to try to make it work between Ashley and me. I said I wanted our last bit of fun to be the end of it."

"That's what you said," Amber nodded.

"Apparently, you didn't respect my wishes to go back to Ashley. She knew all about the handjobs and the jailhouse fucking."

Bateman folded her hands behind her head. Nate couldn't resist a glance down at the straining buttons over her bosom. "What are you saying? A little birdy told Little Miss Ashley about all the things we'd been doing under her nose?"

His fists closed and he had to force them open again. "Why, Amber? Why in the hell do that? You and I both know from the first time it happened that I never wanted it."

"Maybe not at first but you never seemed to have any trouble performing." Her blue eyes rose to the ceiling and a smile played across her lips at the memory. "Especially back there in that cell. You performed like a pro."

Nate took a step toward the desk, his anger rising. "If you weren't threatening me with telling Ashley you were threatening me with all sorts of legal troubles. I didn't have a choice and if you'll recall you had my balls chained to the bars while you threatened to burn, Tase or shoot my dick off. You fucking forced me to let you blow me!"

Bateman grinned and put her sock feet on the desk.

"Then you zip-tied me to the cot, put a rubber on me and fucked me. Twice!"

"Do you really think any jury in the world would buy this?" Amber looked him up and down as if regarding an insect. "First of all, it's your word against mine."

"Lynn knows it, too!" Nate tried and realized how useless that fact was.

"She's got a fiancé and she wants to keep him. She's not going to remember watching you jerk off and she sure as hell won't recall jerking you off in the back of the ambulance."

"Fucking bitches!" Nate cried and took another step forward. "Both of you!"

Bateman adjusted her barrette and closed her eyes no longer deigning to look at him. "Second of all--if you'll let me finish--not a single man or woman would believe that you consistently performed each and every time I--as you put it--'coerced' you. A man doesn't get an erection unless he wants to."

"You're going to sit there and tell me I had a choice?"

"You always had a choice, Walker. If you had genuinely not wanted me to do what I did, you would have remained as limp as a cooked noodle. But that was far from what happened, wasn't it?"

Nate opened his mouth, closed it.

Bateman took her feet off the desk and leaned forward and continued in a low voice. "You and Ashley were having troubles, I knew that way before you did."

"No, we didn't, not until after that night you stroked me off in the woods." Nate became even more indignant. "While she was sitting the damn car, I might add!"

"It was well before that, Nate. Ashley was fucking a pilot every time he was in town. A guy named Stanton Pickett. Seems she always tried to get on his flights, too."

Nate's jaw unhinged in disbelief. "How in the fuck do you know all of that?"

She shook her head. "I'm a cop, you dumb shit. I've had my eye on you since the day you moved in and I had my eye on your girlfriend, too, just not in the same way. I could tell the first time I saw her, sitting in the parking lot at the Stop-N-Save giggling like a schoolgirl over her cell, that she had one foot out of the door even as she was moving her shit into your house."

"That proves nothing, Amber! She could've been talking to anybody!"

"Not just anybody, Nate. I was plainclothes that day pushing my cart toward the store as I went by. The conversation I overheard sounded like something recorded from 1-900-FUCK-MY-BRAINS-OUT."

"Holy shit," Nate muttered. "You expect me to believe that?"

"Then when I saw you two wandering around town, I realized it hadn't been you on the other end of the line that day. Even if I weren't a cop, a woman knows. If you lived together, why would she see the need to have phone sex when you and that beautiful cock were sitting at home waiting?"

Nate stared into space, the hurt ratcheting up. Bateman was right. They'd never had phone sex. Not once.

"Knowing all that, I figured you were ripe for the taking," Bateman went on. "You knew it on some level but didn't want to admit it and you were horny and frustrated to some degree. Why else would you swing upside down and naked in that garage of yours? I acted on a hunch and figured if I teased you a little bit and you didn't respond I'd leave you alone."

Nate's eyes bugged out of his head. "You handcuffed me to the sonofabitchin' table frame! Do you not remember that?"

Bateman laughed. "And yet, despite hanging upside down, dripping sweat and being threatened with OC while cuffed to that thing, you got an erection and blew your load. It never took much, did it? Each and every time. You resisted just enough to ease the guilt of getting a release from another woman. And why? Because you weren't getting it at home."

Nate wrestled with the things now hanging in the air and found a great deal of truth in them. He didn't want to admit it but Bateman was right. He could not have felt more exposed if he'd been sprawled out naked at high noon in the middle of the park.

He said nothing and turned away silently deciding he would just go home and lick the wounds that betrayal and guilt had caused. Not only had Ashley wounded him but he'd done a lot of self-inflicted damage as well.

"You see, Mister Nathan Steven Walker," Bateman said behind him, "you are as much of a whore as your girlfriend was."

Hurt heaped upon pain and humiliation that built up these several months. His psyche was a cornered, wounded animal that had cowered as long as it could. Something snapped and that wounded animal lashed out.

Nate turned and roared toward Bateman who stood with a look of shock and surprise. She glanced at her service belt but he was between it and her.

"You fucking bitch!" he screamed as he tackled her to the floor.

"Get off me, you stupid motherfucker!" Bateman gasped as twisted out of his grip. She hadn't been prepared for the attack and her training--which she hadn't needed since the academy--was slow in coming to her. She crawled toward the door on hands and knees, tried to stand but her sock feet slipped on the tile and she went down again.

Nate grabbed a leg with furious strength and dragged her toward him. The uniform made it easier than it would have been, the material sliding easily along the tile.

"That's it, Walker!" Bateman cried as she turned on her back to fight him. One good punch to the Adam's apple would do it--or the balls. "You'd better remember that last time in the cell 'cause that's the last fucking you'll ever do.

Before she could get a knee up, he was astride her legs. She threw a punch but he ducked and seized her wrist. She threw another punch left-handed and he seized that one as well and leaned forward pinning her to the floor.

Fuck, he was strong, Bateman thought. She'd needled him one too many times with the facts and this was the result. Still, she had to get away and deal with him appropriately.

"Let's see how many charges you've racked up so far, Walker," she hissed as he held her down. "Assault, battery so far."

That brought Nate up short for once. Bateman went for his Adam's apple again, missed and got a glancing blow on his jaw. It hurt her knuckles like hell and caught him enough off guard for her to twist under him and scramble away.

He seized her by the uniform slacks and yanked mightily. "What the hell, Amber?" he growled. "The first two alone will keep me in jail a long time, anyway. Might as well stay in there from now on. Nothing left for me out here."

The slacks popped at the waist and slid down Amber's legs. Nate pulled them free and pounced on her again. She twisted and screamed and Nate seized her wrist again as she groped for the door frame. This time she managed to wrench her hand from his grip and hold onto the jamb with both hands hoping to use the leverage to get far enough away from him to mule-kick him back into the office with both feet.

Before she could heave away from him, Nate ripped open her uniform blouse, the buttons pinging off the tiles and wall.

"Nice," Nate hissed. "Matching undies." He slid a hand firmly over the mounds of her breasts for a moment and stopped. Tears welled up in his eyes as he realized what his rage had driven him to do. He put his hands over his face and sobbed.

"I'm sorry, Amber," he moaned thickly behind his palms. "I'm so fucking sorry."

Amber felt her own tears well up, not of fright or anger, but from realizing she'd brought all of this on the both of them. She was the one who'd stepped way out of line as an officer of the law as a result of the raging lust she'd felt for the man now astride her. She'd done things to him that would have not only cost her her badge but her own freedom as well.

Again, Nate sobbed. "I'm so sorry."

Amber reached up and gripped him behind the neck and pulled him down. "Don't be," she whispered and kissed him passionately.

When they broke the tear-tinged kiss, Amber skinned the bra off. Then she slid her hands down Nate's body and pulled his shirt over his head and then pushed the sweatpants down his hips. As he worked himself free of the clothes, Amber slid her panties down her legs and opened herself to him.

Nate drank in her body, growing hard as he did so. The tile was painful on his knees but the desire he now felt pushed that discomfort far away.

He lowered himself toward her. "Are you sure? No more bullshit?"

Amber nodded reaching for him. "No bullshit."

He entered her with a groan of pleasure, her heat surrounding him, almost burning. They kissed, their lips locking together as he slowly thrust into the policewoman. If anyone had entered the station and peered down the hall, they would've seen the two bodies joined together in the rectangle of light spilling from the office, but neither of them cared.

In a few minutes, Amber's moans became gasps and she desperately clung to him as she climaxed. Nate slowed down, savoring the gripping sensation and the slippery pleasure of her. It wasn't easy but he saw her through two more orgasms before he let go deep inside her.

Amber stood, worked her limbs out and took him by the hand leading him to the desk. She bent forward across the blotter, paperclips and blank reports, presenting her backside to him knowing he would still be erect. One hand gripped her ponytail and urged her head back and she felt him enter her again, their fluids dripping down the inside of her thighs.

He was like a machine now, his satisfied but still hard penis probing her in all the right places. Nate grasped her buttocks, spread her and watched himself slide in and out of the hungry pink entrance to her body.

Amber sobbed as another orgasm rocked her and when it was over, she rolled onto her back, legs high in the air. Nate alternately fucked her and withdrew from her long enough to suckle at her large breasts. By the time it was over, she was quivering with pleasurable exhaustion.

They gathered up their clothes and Amber led Nate upstairs. They climbed and Nate watched her bare ass flex with each step. There was an apartment up here decorated in a conservative, dorm-room-like décor. Simple, yet functional.

"I always wondered where you lived when you weren't in that car," Nate said.

Amber smiled and led him to the shower. There, they kissed and stroked each others' soapy bodies then rinsed and dried off.

Nate asked her to lay back on the bed where he opened her legs and pushed them up. He slid on his stomach toward her and lowered his head and began to lap at her sex.

"Oh!" was all Amber managed to say as he licked and suckled her clitoris then spread her open to slide his tongue into her. She could not fathom why Ashley gave up pleasure like this to be with someone else who simply could not have been as skilled at sex as Nate was.

"Her loss," Amber told herself, "and my gain."

With skilled fingers and tongue, Nate brought her to another climax. Then he rose to his knees and lay on his back while Amber returned the favor.

By the time they'd finished with each other, the sun was far above the horizon.

"This doesn't have to end, Nate," Amber said as she cuddled next to him.

"Aren't you far too busy as the sole cop in this town for us to spend nights fucking?"

Amber sighed. "I don't have a lot of free time but even a cop needs somewhere to eat her lunch once or twice a week."

Nate cupped a breast. "Is that right?"

"But I think instead of lunch we'll be spending time eating each other, don't you think?"

Nate agreed.