Security Mischief Turns Steamy

In my early twenties, I worked as a night security guard at a casino resort. As far as casinos went, it was relatively new. Most of the property was still under construction-- the event center was a mud pit filled with earth movers, the indoor mall was an empty cement coliseum, the table games had only just opened a month prior, and the hotel and spa were completed, but had yet to be unveiled to the public.

The job sucked. Yes, we had to break up the occasional bar fight, or give CPR to some elderly customer. But most of the time, we were just playing bouncer with people's IDs, or fetching cocktail waitresses for impatient gamblers. And in between that was a lot of standing around.

But I shouldn't complain. I was 24, newly single, had my own place, and was in the best shape of my life. And when you're surrounded by a bunch of guards the same age, a bunch of half-naked cocktail waitresses the same age, a bunch of card dealers, clerks, bartenders, bankers, and yes... drunk horny customers, it was hard not to get laid.

The crazy part was, I was one of the more innocent and wholesome guards. I didn't approach people. I didn't initiate conversations with anyone. I didn't go to parties with coworkers, or take trips to the shore in a big group like they did. I'd like to say that I was shy, but cynical was probably a better term. I was on the outside, looking in, and preferred it that way. And yet, despite my efforts to alienate myself from the rest of them, I still got more action in that single year than ever before. It just found me.

I can only imagine how much more sex I would have seen if I put in as much effort as the other guards. In a security force of nearly 50 officers, I was the one guy who didn't give a damn if I went to bed alone or not.

...Okay... so that's not completely true. Despite my various flings, there was one special person who I did want...

My partner was a female officer, about a year younger than me. Her name was Kate Galloway. To say that I had a little crush on her is to say "The Sun is Warm." I don't know what I felt for her, but it was definitely more than a simple crush.

We were so much alike that it was sort of scary. The first time I took her for beers at the American Legion, my bartender mistook us for brother and sister. I could see it. We were close in age, we both had big blue eyes (hers were the color of ice and mine were a tad darker). We both had light brown hair (although at the time, she was sporting one of those raspberry colored dye-jobs that gave her normal chestnut brown hair an artificial maroon color). I'm not normally one for fake hair colors, but with her, it worked. It gave her a touch of rebelliousness and personality that was very badly needed, since our uniforms were a hideous shade of bright blue. We had badges, duty belts, and boots... but everything just sort of missed the mark. To me, it looked like a cheap Halloween costume, or a "Police" uniform in a low budget porno movie.

Yet on Galloway, it worked. Maybe because she stood out all on her own. She was hot. She had full pink lips, calm eyes that squinted slightly, a few concealed tattoos, and sharply defined features. Her manner was cool and even, and thus, she often reminded me of a young Neve Campbell (circa Scream 2 or Wild Things).

She didn't wear makeup at work, and she didn't need to. She was naturally good looking in that all-American-girl kind of way. An easy 7 while in uniform. And on those very rare occasions when we hung out outside of work, or she did herself up for a girl's night at the casino in her down-time, she was a solid 9. Her breasts were nice round C cups, her butt was just thicker than average, and she had strong thick legs with some surprising definition.

I wasn't in it only for her body. Of course I wanted to sleep with her, but I knew that a one night stand could never be enough. It was her personality that turned me on. She had a bottomless sense of humor that was hidden behind a wall of sarcasm. She held her own against a sea of horny cop-wanna-be's with her sharp wit, impenetrable sarcasm, and (sometimes) stoic demeanor.

In other words, imagine any lady-cop you've ever met. She spoke, sounded, and carried herself like one. Sprinkle on the sense of humor of a tomboy, and that was Kate. And as my bartender so pointed out, "You two have the exact same mannerisms."

We were close right from the start.

Our first day, she marveled at the gaming floor around us, and remarked "What kind of world did we just step into?"

I replied simply with "'Fuck the world'." (Quoting Rambo, of course.)

Galloway stared at me long and hard for a moment, sizing me up. Then a tiny ghost of a smile appeared on her lips, she wagged her finger at me, and said "I like you."

We sometimes talked about going out for real. Dating. But the casino was a literal feeding frenzy of everyone trying to sleep with everyone. And since we both knew that if we hooked up, it would be something long-lasting, with customers and coworkers constantly throwing themselves at us, we figured that it would be a relationship overshadowed by insecurities and jealousy issues.

So it was a silent agreement: The friendship came first. The partnership came first.

But that didn't mean we couldn't get carried away and have a crazy "What the hell did we just do?" moment or two...

* * *

That night, we were assigned to rove the new hotel. The execs were still picking their moment (and noses) on when they were going to unveil their gaudy monster to the public. So it was completely off-limits to everyone but the contractors in the daytime, and security at night. There was no reason to have more than just the two of us, and the cameras were still off-line. ...how fortunate for the night we were about to have...

She was waiting for me along the far wall of the gaming floor. A set of double doors, a velvet rope, and a "Coming Soon..." sign announced what was just beyond.

When I approached she gave me a snappy (and sarcastic) salute. It was just her way of greeting me. I wasn't her superior. We were hired at the same time-- probably why we had such a bond. When you suffer through the same eye-roll-inducing two day orientation, surrounded by strangers, you tend to bond with the one other guard in your class.

"The second I saw our names on the schedule, I knew this was going to be a disaster in the making," she said with a little smile. Her voice always came out dry and matter of fact. The personality of Kate Galloway was concealed in the subtleties to her robotic voice and cold expressions.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied innocently. "I plan to head up to the penthouse and take a nice long nap. Wake me when my shift is over."

"You better not," she warned. "An empty hotel? It's going to be like the freakin' Shining. If I have to stay up, you are too."

Though she made light of my joke, the truth is that Galloway was a more diligent employee than me. I hated that job, and had been circling the drain for a few months now. In fact, the real reason I kept going in every day was her. But that barely kept me on the straight and narrow. I was good at walking the line of oblivion-- screwing around just enough to poke the managers, but not enough to earn a write-up or a firing. Galloway, on the other hand, had a stronger sense of duty... or she just needed her job way more than me. She wasn't a rat-- she looked the other way on everyone's shenanigans, but she behaved herself.

"So are you still dating that goofball with the pointy side burns?" I asked as I pushed our way past the lobby doors. We stepped inside and as the doors shut behind us, we were immediately engulfed in total silence-- which was impressive, since the casino was a never-ending assault on our hearing. The blare of a thousand electronic slot machines, jingling change, and mechanical tunes always melded into a painful white noise. However, the tomb-like silence was the only impressive part of the hotel.

The lobby was underwhelming. Cookie-cutter generic, set in beige tones, pine wood accents, and ugly green carpet. Considering the last time we saw this room, it was bare drywall and concrete, I was hoping for more.

"Fuck you, Quinn," Galloway replied, but I could tell by the slight smile on those pink lips that she really wasn't bothered. "And we aren't dating. We're just having a good time."

"With sideburns like his, you're probably not even having a good time," I mused. We fell into step with each other, crossing the carpeted expanse and glanced around.

I was a little proud of that sharp reply, and it earned a small guilty laugh from Galloway.

"Why does that, of all things, bother you so much?"

"Because he looks like a douche. He wasn't born with those. That was a deliberate move on his part. Which means he looks at himself in the mirror every day and thinks 'I look good! I don't look like an asshole at all. I'm fit to walk around amongst decent society." The truthfully, it wasn't the sideburns that bothered me. I would have disapproved of any guy that wasn't me, who had Galloway's full attention.

Galloway cocked an eyebrow. "You're 'decent society'?"

I gave her a lopsided smirk. "No. I'm Quinn."

Again, another chuckle.

"So where are we going?" I asked, looking at the arrows on the walls that announced the various hotel 'attractions'. Elevators, arcade, restaurant, etc.

"Let's check out the pool and spa," she jutted her chin at the bottom-most arrow.

"A little cold for this time of year, don't you think?" I smiled.

"It's indoor. You're such an idiot," she put her shoulder against mine and gave me a shove as we walked. I caught my balance after a moment and gave it right back to her. Guard dogs at play.

* * *

The hotel spa was more interesting than the lobby, to say the least. A hallway led us to a door of frosted glass. We knew we were on the right track as the smell of chlorine permeated the air. They had already filled and treated the pool two weeks ago.

The door was unlocked and we invited ourselves inside. Galloway merely shook her head at the lack of a lock or card reader. So much for safety features. Lots of areas in the casino were a walking liability waiting to happen. Last month, our manager had called a meeting to go over safety protocol once the new pool area opened. We were told we'd have to regularly patrol it, since the casino hadn't bothered to hire life guards. Thus, security had to pull double duty and police the drunk swimmers, in addition to the gambling floor. Not that it wasn't a terrible idea, but a resort that made us endure two full days of endless "Safety Awareness" videos, then suddenly got cheap on trained life guards, was utterly asinine.

"Holy shit," Galloway said, gazing around the pool. "Do you think they'd be mad if I called in sick on Grand Opening, and then spent the day here?"

Indeed, I shared the sentiment. The indoor pool had the same beige tones as the rest of the building, but it was dark and welcoming. The overhead lights were dim for ambience, and the pool itself was lit from below. It was an asymmetrical shape of random curves, and at the head, an attached Jacuzzi. The pool of hot water bubbled and sloshed as the automatic heater kept it to temp. Potted plants gave the room a tropical jungle-feel, as did the heated 80 degree air, that was thick with humidity. We were hardly in the room for a minute, and already the thought of being in the cool spotless water seemed refreshing.

Galloway must have thought the same thing, because she strode curiously to the edge of the water and dipped her slender fingers in to test the temperature.

"How is it?" I asked, trying not to stare too closely at her ass as she bent down. But it was hard not to. The baggy 'authoritative' uniforms left a lot to the imagination... unless Galloway happened to stretch her back and thrust out or chest... or bend over, like she was doing now. No panty-lines, I noted. She must have been wearing a thong...

"Cold?" I asked, stepping closer.

"Warm. Really warm," she replied. "And if you push me in, I'll stick your badge where the sun don't shine."

This earned a little smile out of me. But the truth was, I wouldn't do that. I wouldn't even joke about it. That's a threat I wouldn't find funny if someone said it to me, and therefore, I'd never subject her to it. Although, the thought of seeing her with a wet clingy uniform, hugging the curves of her breasts and pulling tight around her tummy was definitely getting filed away in my brain for later.

I didn't reply, and maybe she found that disappointing, because she reached forward and dried her hand on my shirt, leaving a big wet mark.

"Hey," I said, pretending to be annoyed.

She smirked with that cool calm demeanor, her eyes squinting slightly. "Did you just flex when I did that?"

"Don't act like you're not impressed," I teased.

She laughed lightly and gave me a shove.

We walked around the pool. Our boots echoed off of a tile floor that was meant to look like sandy stones.

"I dare you to jump in," I said.

"I'm not going to lie, I'm actually kind of tempted," she admitted. And I knew from the way that she didn't firmly hold my eyes, that she was considering it. But it wasn't something that she would do. And as fast and loose as I played with this job, I wouldn't risk it either.

Near the bubbling Jacuzzi, we spotted the entrance to the spa area, set at the bottom of a short stone stairway. It was initially hidden from view by several well placed ferns, and was rather discreet. Probably why we hadn't noticed it early. A slow cloud of mist rolled along the ceiling, and up into the vaulted pool area. Supposedly, down there we'd find changing rooms, a bathroom, a couple of massage tables, a steam bath, and a wood sauna.

I was curious to check it out, but before I could go further, Galloway caught my arm and nudged me. She jutted her chin down at the bottom of the stairs. Look closer.

I saw what she meant after a moment. A pair of discarded high heels on the floor. A pair of men's loafers. We moved cautiously now, keeping our footsteps soft. A pair of slacks and a belt hung from the wall. A woman's expensive cocktail dress.

As we inched down the handful of steps, we started to hear it over the soft hiss of steam. A drunken giggle, and several passionate moans.

I looked at Galloway. Her expression mostly unchanged, but from the way she held the corners of her mouth and the twinkle in her eye, it was one of amusement. We knew what this was.

We jokingly called them "10-69's" on the radio. Everything we did over the air was in that stupid code-- a 10-98, a 10-9, etc... A 10-69 was our crude slang for a couple engaging in public sex. It didn't happen often, but it did happen at the casino. An adventurous couple would have a few drinks too many, and slip into a bathroom stall, or get frisky in the back seat of their car in one of our parking lots. Sometimes they wouldn't even make it into the car-- and just opt to fuck each other's brains out between parked vehicles.

I had caught a few, myself, on different occasions. Some guards would make a big stink. The power hungry assholes who liked to pretend to be cops, would scare the shit out of them, threaten to charge some sort of indecent exposure, or other such nonsense. They'd roll in with flashing lights and all sorts of bravado.

Galloway and I were more easy-going. Most of the time, they weren't doing anything that I hadn't done at some point in my life. Let 'em have their fun. As long as you made sure they were consenting adults. Beyond that, a simple "I'm coming back in fifteen minutes. Don't be here," was enough to get them to finish the job and bail before one of my more up-tight coworkers happened across the show.

But tonight was definitely a new one for us. This whole area was off limits to the public. Technically, it was trespassing. Not that I cared. To me, it was a mischievous couple who wanted to be extra naughty. Good for them! I really didn't think it was worth calling in over the radio, talking to my supervisors, possibly calling the police, and spending the rest of my shift writing a report for something that was essentially harmless (and rather funny). However, under the circumstances, simply breaking up the romp wasn't going to cut it. To avoid the red tape, I'd have to find a way to sneak them the hell out, too. And if it was just my ass facing the punishment for doing so, fine. The question is, was Galloway up for that?

We crept closer to the sauna doors. The steam room was running, but there was nobody inside. It looked and sounded like the wood sauna was where the action was. They had taken the liberty to come prepared too. Just outside of the door was a woman's large shoulder bag. My last girlfriend used to use them to haul lunches to work. This couple had the foresight to bring bottled water and outside wine coolers. They were pros. I was impressed.

Galloway could read the bemused smile on my face because I noticed her expression change from I don't know what to do to Oh boy... this is kind of funny.

Clearly she was letting me take the lead, which... to be honest, I wasn't sure how to approach. A dark parking lot is a bit different than an off limits spa. And... after seeing the level of preparedness they brought to this guerilla operation, I was curious to get a glimpse of these people. Anyone ballsy enough to do something like christen the casino's spa before it opened were the kind of people I could befriend.

I peered in, and from what I could tell of the moving shapes, they were young-- not as young as me and Galloway-- but mid to late 30's. They were both fit. The woman had raven-black hair. She was straddling a man's lap, facing away from the door. He was leaning back on the wooden bench. Her hips were moving slow and sensually as she slid up and down. There was something hypnotic about her movements, with the way the sweat gleaned off of their bodies. I had to look away after only a moment, as I felt my cock stirring between my legs. A couple of seconds more, and my uniform would be sporting a tremendous bulge that I'd prefer to not have while at work.

As I backed away, Galloway took her turn and peered inside. "Oh my," she whispered quietly. "They're really going at it."

Her head was just below my chin, and this close, I could smell her shampoo. A pleasant sour-apple smell. And I realized that my cock wasn't going back to sleep. Her scent was waking it up even more.

I was about to suggest we break up the show, but I noticed Galloway not backing away from the window. She was drinking in the sight. I suppose I couldn't blame her. It was erotic as hell. I peered over her head again to admire the view. The woman was a pleasant hour glass shape. She was curvier than Galloway... especially up top. The man leaned his head back and moaned. Her naked bottom sashayed from side to side as she slid up and down her stallion. We both got a sense of his length. He was certainly a big boy.

My hands darted into my pockets at the realization that my cock was pressing into the fabric of my pants, forming a half tent. Fuck. Even with my fists tucked into my pockets, it wasn't helping.

Galloway stood back up a moment later, and despite her stoic mannerisms, there was a visible redness to her cheeks that matched her dyed hair.