Gossip and a strap-on
Willy listened to the two women who were chatting while putting on their make-up in front of the mirror of the ladies change room, while she sat in the toilet stall.
“So what do you think of the new girl,” one asked the other.
“I sneaked a read of her file when she transferred in from New York, she seems to be a good cop,” was the reply.
“So what’s the juice then, tell me all?” the first woman asked.
“She’s divorced, no kids, been in three New York precinct houses since she left the police academy. She has also had two commendations, one for bravery, one for merit, her previous Captain in New York recommended her for sergeant, but she was passed over because she had marital problems, then she asked to be transferred here to Vegas.”
“Marital problems, huh? So she screws around?”
“Can’t say, that part isn’t in her jacket.”
“So what is the jacket?”
“Well, she did see a shrink, but it didn’t have anything to do with the job.”
“Is that all?”
“Pretty much.”
“Oh then I know something you don’t.”
“What?”
“I hear she’s pretty tight with the chief’s daughter.”
“Who, Chilly-Willy?”
“Uh-huh, the ice princess.”
“Wooo! Serious lesbo action.”
“Oh come on now! All Chilly-Willy ever does is work, I bet she cant remember who last touched her cunt.”
“Oh? Why is her fancy English car in front of Fields’ place every night for the last two months then, huh?”
“So Chilly-Willy bought a strap-on and they’re doing it, big deal!”
“Come on, let’s get out there, and save the world.”
Willy heard the two gossip’s footsteps moving away and the door of the Woman’s restroom opening.
Willy stood, flushed the bowl, smoothed down her skirt and opened the stall door. After washing her hands, she exited the washroom, and followed the two female uniform officers towards the duty desk.
She approached the desk sergeant, flashing her badge, “Hi, Bill” she said,” I’m looking for Hanna Fields? She finished her shift about half an hour ago.” She enquired.
Not bothering to look up, the balding overweight sergeant grunted something and jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the squad room door behind him, and continued to study the papers in front of him.
Willy walked into the squad room and found Hanna at a desk, completing every cop’s worst nightmare, paperwork that follows an arrest.
Hanna looked up and smiled, wide, her luminous blue eyes lighting up, “Hi Willy, I’m just about done, gimme five minutes, ok? I just need to finish this,” she said pointing to the report she was working on, “and I’m finished for the day. ” She grinned.
Willy nodded and sat opposite Hanna, while she scribbled furiously, and finished the report by signing it with a flourish.
“All right then,” Hanna said, “Let’s give this to the D.S., then gimme a second to change into civvies, and we’re outta here.”
“Hanna opened a desk drawer, took out and holstered her duty pistol, rose, and headed for the door, followed by Willy.
The white heat of the desert almost overwhelmed them as they stepped down from the stairs of the police station, into the sunlight. Almost simultaneously both woman reached instinctively for their sunglasses, Hanna’s were mirrored Ray-bans “Aviator” that hid her wide expressive blue eyes, Willy’s were the less concealing Gucci wrap-around, that shaded her best feature, her luminous green eyes, and framed her classic cheekbones.
The two girls walked side by side along the pavement, their hands “almost” touching. They made a contrasting pair, Hanna at five-eleven, the taller of the two by two inches, and had a body that turned heads wherever she went. Her normally below the shoulder length natural blonde hair was pulled back, severely in a “pony-tail”. She had slipped into a white midriff tank-top, which displayed her flat stomach and cute belly button and showed her lush 36C breasts to their best advantage, the faded Levi denims she had put on, looked as though they were bought a size too small and had shrunk in the wash.
In contrast, Willy’s short, unruly dark hair was brushed carelessly back off her forehead, simple little gold hoops pierced the lobes of her ears. A designer label crème blouse accentuated her shoulders without the aid of shoulder-pads; three buttons were open at the neck, displaying the outline of a pair of 32B cup breasts, without flaunting any inadequacy. Her narrow waist was cinched with a wide western leather belt and Navaho belt buckle. A gray-green skirt ended just above her knee, giving people who bothered to look a glimpse of well-developed thighs, calves and delicate ankles. Both women wore comfortable, though unfashionable, running shoes.
As they reached Willy’s ’63 racing-green E-type Jaguar, Willy unlocked the passenger door and held it open for Hanna, before moving to the driver’s door and slipping behind the wheel. She moved the car into the late afternoon traffic, heading towards Hanna’s house.
She described the conversation she overheard.
“So what? It is exactly what we are doing, Willy,” Hanna responded.
“But, I don’t own a strap-on, and we’re not lesbians” Willy remonstrated.
“No we’re not, but we can get a strap-on.” Hanna responded, “Stop there,” she pointed to a vacant parking spot, in front of a well known sex shop, “Lets get one there.”
Willy guided the Jag into the parking place, locking the doors after they had exited.
They walked into the large well-known sex shop, hand in hand. A Goth-like clerk complete with pale make-up, darkened eyes, drab dark-gray dress, blackened hair, spiked bracelets and collar, disengaged herself from a co-worker and the magazine they were avidly reading. “Can I help you ladies?” she asked.
Hanna blushed prettily, “Um, my friend is looking for a strap-on,” she said, pointing at Willy.
The clerk nodded knowingly, “Any particular model or size?” she asked.
This time Willy blushed “Well no, can you show us some?” she asked.
“They are all there,” The clerk answered and pointed absently to a wall, whose shelves were laden with dozens of varieties of dongs and strap-on’s
Hanna giggled, “Holy shit, there’s hundreds”
Willy whispered, “You choose, you are going to be on the receiving end.”
Hanna and Willy walked along the isle, picking up various models, reading the descriptions or advertising that was printed on the packaging, aloud to one and other, before finally, Hanna, held up an 8-inch model she had taken off the shelf, and asked the bored clerk, “What’s this one like?” she asked brazenly.
“Ah,” said the Goth girl clerk, sagely, “Good choice, it comes complete with a harness and batteries. It has a vibrating, molded head, sculpted shaft and has some really neat accessories.”
“Ok, “said Willy, “We’ll take it.”
The two women giggled all the way back to the car, the discretely wrapped parcel clutched safely in Hanna’s hands.
The conversation in the car was as light, as the traffic was heavy. Amid sneak peeks and a lot of giggling, they arrived at Hanna’s suburban Las Vegas home.
Once inside, they fell into each other’s arms on the sofa, in the sitting room. Hanna’s arms snaked around Willy’s waist, unbuckling the belt and tugging at the skirt. Willy kissed Hanna, her tongue flicking at Hanna’s teeth and her lips sucking Hanna’s tongue, furiously they tugged each other’s clothing off until they both sat amid piles of discarded clothing.
Willy’s mouth sucked lightly on Hanna’s neck, her wet warm tongue caressing the soft skin, her hands caressed Hanna’s waiting breasts, teasing her nipples with her palms, taking a heavy nipples between thumb and for finger and pulling and pinching the nubbins until they glowed like ripe strawberries, their areole shrinking.
Hanna had begun to pant; instinctively her thighs had spread themselves almost un-naturally wide and her back was arched, inviting her lover to take her. Slowly, teasingly slow, Willy moved her head down across Hanna’s shoulder, then she dragged her tongue down the valley of Hanna’s breasts, across her belly, stopping briefly to explore and probe Hanna’s belly button with her tongue before heading down lower through the Hanna’s course curly pubic hairs until she found the treasure, she so desperately sought.
Willy’s mouth enveloped Hanna’s plump pussy, she sucked hard drawing the wet warmth of Hanna’s lips into her mouth, her tongue pressed into Hanna like a tiny penis, the tip delving into the slit, she pressed her nose hard against Hanna’s clit, and began to shake her head from side to side, pressing and squishing Hanna’s engorged clit against her pelvis, at the same time making sucking noises as she slurped the lubricant Hanna’s pussy had begun to produce, just for her.
Hanna gasped, arching her back further, thighs twitching faster and faster as Willy’s nose ground and squished her, now, super-sensitive clit. An electrical tickle began to expand from the base of her spine, tiny bursts of pure pleasure flowed upward from her thighs; she screwed her eyes tight shut, her breathing coming in ragged grunts.
Willy continued to make slurpy noises as she sucked at the juice that flowed freely from Hanna’s pussy. Where her head buried in Hanna’s lap, Willy could feel the strong muscles in Hanna’s thighs contract with the building of an orgasm. Hanna’s knees finally locked, her thighs pressing hard against Willy’s ears, her fingers digging into her short hair, pressing her face deeper into her lap, the electrical waves of pleasure overtaking all decorum,
Hanna began to squeal, “I love you, I love you, I love you, Willy, please, please,” then a final long drawn out “Yessssssssssssssss,” as the orgasm rocked her deep inside her belly and exploded with an ecstatic shuddering that took her breath away.
As her breathing slowly returned too normal, she opened her eyes and gave a mock sob, “Oh no, you forgot to use the strap-on,” she wailed.
“I love you too, my baby girl” Willy answered, lifting her head and licking her fingers like a cat laps at a bowl of cream “Relax we’ve got all evening to play, we’ll use the strap-on after dinner”.
“Then I guess we’ve become lesbians, Willy” Hanna answered.
Willy nodded, “Yes, my darling girl, I guess we have.”