The Female Cop Cornered Me in the Locker Room

It all started with a ridiculous argument over a parking ticket and a guy in uniform whose badge was too big for him and whose head was too small. I left my motorcycle where several of us from the area always left ours on the way to the gym after work, and before I could take off my helmet, an officer was already walking toward me with the swagger of someone who still hadn't learned to tell authority from arrogance.

—You can't park here, he snapped, without so much as a greeting.

—Yes, you can, I replied, pointing out the width of the sidewalk. Check the regulations before you come lecturing me.

Things heated up quickly. I knew what I was talking about, because my work often brought me into contact with city employees, and I also knew the head of the local force. The rookie, on the other hand, preferred to fall back on arrogance. I found the ticket when I came back and went straight to file a complaint.

The chief received me with a tired expression, as if the officer's name had already caused him more trouble than he had experienced during his entire time in office. He listened to me, reviewed the citation, and told me he would sort it out. I made it clear that my problem wasn't with the whole force, but with that particular idiot.

Two days later he showed up where I was working. He got out of the municipal car ready to pick a fight, red with rage and eager to put on a show.

—What the fuck do you think you're doing? he spat as soon as he approached.

—First, lower your voice, I told him. And second, back off.

He got almost chest to chest with me, as if that could solve anything. That's when a firm hand came between us and shoved him aside. It was his partner. Brunette, light eyes, serious expression. I remembered seeing her several times, but never from so close.

—That's enough, she said. This isn't the place.

I turned my back on the asshole and carried on with what I was doing, although I could still hear him ranting. Later I went back to the municipal offices to explain what had happened. The person in charge already knew about it, and while we were talking, there was a knock at the door. The same officer who had separated us came in.

We left the office together a while later. She apologized for what had happened, although none of it had been her fault. There, for the first time, we talked without rushing. Her name was Nadia, she was filling a temporary post, and she had just rented an apartment in the city so she wouldn't spend her life on the road.

The truth was, I had noticed her before. The uniform hid quite a lot, but it couldn't disguise an athletic body, a firm ass, or that way of looking at you that seemed to hold more than it said. She had long dark hair, fair skin, and blue eyes that stood out absurdly whenever she looked straight at you.

We ran into each other again a few days later at the gym. I was finishing a workout when I saw her reflected in a mirror. She was wearing black leggings, white sneakers, and a simple top that outlined her shoulders and hard stomach. Without the uniform, the effect was worse. Or better, depending on how you looked at it.

She approached me with a smile.

—I saw you when I came in, but you were too focused.

—At my age, if I don't focus, I break something, I replied.

She slowly looked me up and down without the slightest shame, pausing at my sweat-soaked shirt and the arms swollen from exertion.

—Well, you don't look so bad for someone who complains so much.

—Thanks. You didn't exactly come here to go unnoticed either.

She laughed, and that clear laugh didn't quite fit with the firmness she showed at work. I liked that. Strength and nerve mixed with something playful.

We crossed paths several more times, at work and at the gym. Every encounter added one extra look, one double-meaning remark, one extra second of silence. She loosened up around me, and I, although I wasn't a kid, recognized that familiar mix of ego, desire, and anticipation that puts your body on alert.

One afternoon we finished almost at the same time. We were talking as we headed toward the locker rooms when she put a hand to the back of her neck and let out a groan.

—I've wrecked my back today. I need a hot shower and a massage.

—The shower is easy. The massage is a matter of negotiation.

She gave me a sidelong look with half a smile.

—Was that an offer?

—Depends. Would it be mutual?

She gave my arm a light smack and let out a low laugh. I thought we'd each continue on our way, but when I crossed the bathroom area, I felt her hand on my back, pushing me decisively. I went into one of the enclosed stalls and she slipped in behind me, slamming the door shut.

The space was tiny. We could barely move without rubbing against each other. When I turned around, her palms were already on my chest.

—Don't even think about pretending to be surprised, she murmured.

—I would never argue with authority.

—Good. Because I've come to collect a few outstanding fines.

Her smile was the last light thing there. After that, her hands slid beneath my shirt and she took my nipples between her fingers, twisting them just enough to draw a moan from me. She used the opportunity to move closer, crushing her body against mine, and kissed me hungrily, without hesitation or unnecessary delicacy.

Her tongue entered my mouth as if she'd been imagining it for days. Mine answered immediately. I grabbed her ass over her leggings and squeezed hard, feeling the firm muscle of her buttocks beneath the fabric. She let out a short moan against my lips and lowered one hand to my waist.

She slipped her fingers inside my sweatpants and found me already hard.

—Fuck, she whispered. So it was true—you were looking at me with desire.

—And you at me.

—Of course I was.

She grabbed my cock through my underwear, squeezed it, and slowly began moving her hand, enjoying the way my body tensed against the wall. Then she pulled the fabric aside and took me out, holding me in the air with an expression of pure lust.

—Not bad, she said, looking at it as if she were evaluating evidence. Quite a bit better than I expected.

I brushed a lock of hair from her face and kissed her again, more roughly this time. She let me, but she didn't release my cock. On the contrary, she sped up her hand, covering the entire shaft, moving up to the head and back down while her other hand tugged my shirt over my head.

The cool bathroom air brushed my sweaty torso. Nadia lowered her mouth to my chest and licked one nipple with the tip of her tongue before taking it between her lips. She sucked eagerly, bit me, and then repeated it on the other. Every tug matched the rhythm of her hand on my cock, wetter and faster now.

—Don't make noise, she told me when she noticed me breathing hard. It turns me on to think someone might come in, but not enough for me to want us caught.

—Then stop doing this.

—No fucking way.

She knelt in front of me with a confidence that finally pushed me over the edge. She pulled my pants and underwear all the way down, and my cock was left free, hard, and pointing toward her. Nadia wrapped her fingers around the base and ran her tongue very slowly over the tip, spreading the fluid already shining on the head.

The first contact nearly made me laugh from the filthy relief it gave me. Not from tenderness, but from need. We'd been building toward this for weeks with looks and touches, and now I had her on her knees in a cramped gym bathroom, sucking me as if she'd been waiting for me.

She opened her mouth and swallowed the head completely. Then she went lower, taking part of the shaft, and began moving up and down with a steady rhythm. Her tongue worked underneath, caressing the sensitive underside, while one hand fondled my balls and the other kept a firm grip at the base.

—Fuck... it escaped me.

She looked up without letting me go, her eyes bright, and sank a little deeper. It was obvious she knew what she was doing and, above all, that she liked it. She didn't go at top speed; she played with the intensity. Sometimes she left almost all of me outside and licked from bottom to top; other times she took half my cock into her mouth and sucked hard enough to make my thighs tense.

I gathered her hair into an improvised ponytail, without being rough, and guided the movement of her head a couple of times. Nadia let out a muffled moan that vibrated around my cock and almost made me lose control.

I pulled her up before I came too soon. She stood with her mouth wet, her lips shining, and a satisfied bitch's smile that made me grab her waist and turn her against the door.

—Now it's your turn.

—About time.

I pushed her top up beneath her breasts and pulled it off, awkwardly because the space was so narrow. Her tits were small and firm, her nipples hard from the contrast between the air and her excitement. I grabbed them both and buried my face between them as she arched her back. I licked one nipple, sucked it slowly, then moved to the other, feeling her grip the door to steady herself.

I lowered my hands to her leggings and eased them down over her hips, while she helped by lifting one foot and then the other. She wasn't wearing anything underneath. When the fabric fell to her ankles, the round, hard ass I'd imagined so many times beneath the uniform appeared.

I spread her buttocks with both hands and leaned in. Her pussy was already wet, open for me, shining with unmistakable evidence. I ran my tongue from bottom to top, slowly, savoring all of her, and Nadia let out a hoarse moan that bounced off the walls of the stall.

—Don't stop, she said without looking back. Fuck, don't stop.

I licked her again, this time sliding my tongue inside while I searched for her clitoris with my thumb. She shuddered. She began moving her ass against my face, asking for more with her body before her voice. I slipped two fingers inside her—they went in easily because she was so wet—and started fucking her with my hand while sucking her clitoris with short, hard strokes.

Her legs trembled. I heard her ragged breathing, the way she swallowed, how she tried not to moan too loudly and failed.

—Jesus... like that... like that... she stammered. You're going to make me come right here.

—That's the idea.

I added a third finger and she let out a louder cry, thrusting her hips backward. The bathroom smelled of clean sweat, soap, and recent sex. My hard, neglected cock slapped against me with every movement of her body. When I felt she was about to come, I stood up and held her by the waist.

—Not yet.

She looked at me over her shoulder, breathing quickly.

—Fuck me already.

She didn't need to repeat herself. I spat into my hand, spread it over my cock, and guided it to her entrance. The first push was slow only at the beginning; as soon as the head broke through, I drove all the way in with one thrust.

Nadia dropped her forehead against the door and let out such a raw moan that it made me even harder.

—Fuck, yes... yes... like that...

I grabbed her hips and began thrusting into her hard, finding a short but forceful rhythm because of the lack of space. Her pussy squeezed me beautifully, hot and wet, responding to every stroke with a contraction that traveled up my spine. She reached one hand behind her and grabbed my ass, as if she wanted to drive me deeper.

—Harder, she demanded. Don't treat me like I'm made of glass.

I obeyed. Every thrust sounded wet and dry at once in the stall's echo. Her buttocks trembled under my blows. I lowered one hand and rubbed her clitoris while I kept fucking her, and that completely undid her. She began cursing under her breath, moving her pussy in search of more friction, thrusting herself backward to meet me.

—What the fuck are you doing... she panted. You're going to make me come, asshole.

—Then come.

I bit her shoulder, kept rubbing her clitoris, and sped up as much as I could. Nadia suddenly went rigid. I felt her pussy close around my cock in rapid spasms, one after another, while she moaned with her face pressed against the door, no longer able to hide anything.

She came hard, truly hard. Her thighs trembled. Her legs nearly gave out.

I held her by the waist and stayed inside her, slower at first and then hard again, because watching her come like that finally unleashed me. She turned her head, her hair stuck to her face, with an expression of pure depravity.

—Don't stop now, she said, still panting. Don't you dare.

The bathroom was too small for us to continue comfortably standing, so I lowered the toilet lid and sat down. I pulled her onto me without withdrawing my cock any farther than necessary, and Nadia understood immediately. She straddled me and dropped her whole weight onto me, moaning again when she felt me deep inside her.

—This is better, she murmured.

She began riding me with a mixture of urgency and control that hypnotized me. She rose almost to the tip and dropped hard, impaling herself, setting the pace with her legs and abdomen. I grabbed her tits, kneaded them without gentleness, and pinched her nipples. She kissed me, biting my lower lip, and kept riding me with greater enthusiasm.

—Look at me, I told her.

She did. And she kept fucking me without looking away. The image of her sweaty body moving on top of mine, her top crumpled to one side, her leggings around her ankles, her blue eyes fixed on me as she opened and closed around my cock, brought me to the brink.

I slipped one hand between our bodies and touched her clitoris again. Nadia leaned forward, braced her hands on my shoulders, and began fucking my cock faster and dirtier, using the full weight of her body.

—There... there, fuck... she kept repeating. Feels so good... I didn't know you had one that good.

—And you hid that pussy so well.

She laughed for barely a second, the laugh turning into a moan. Her second orgasm came differently from the first, longer and more tremulous. It began with a shudder in her stomach and ended with her impaling herself all the way down and staying there, squeezing me as her breathing broke into little spasms.

I couldn't hold out much longer. I lifted her slightly by the waist and helped her off me. Nadia dropped to her knees again, as if that were always her favorite way to finish things.

—Come in my mouth, she ordered.

I wasn't going to argue. She grabbed my cock, still wet with her, and took it between her lips with fresh eagerness, more uninhibited now that she'd already come twice. She sucked quickly and deeply, using her hand to bring me to the edge. I watched her work and felt the climax approaching at full speed.

—I'm going to come.

She didn't pull away. On the contrary, she swallowed me deeper and looked up at me. That was enough. I came in her mouth with a growl, shooting in pulses while she kept my cock inside, swallowing what she could and letting some of it spill from the corner of her mouth. When I was done, she still licked me slowly, cleaning the tip and shaft with obscene devotion.

She stood afterward, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and smiling as if she'd just won a bet against me.

—Now we're even over the ticket.

I pulled her toward me and sucked one of her nipples again, still sensitive. She shuddered.

—If every penalty were like this, I'd park worse more often.

—Don't get carried away, she said, although she was clearly delighted. This wasn't charity. I'd been imagining it for too long.

We got dressed as best we could in that tiny space. While she pulled up her leggings and adjusted her top, she asked about my situation. I was honest with her. I told her my partner knew about my adventures, and that there was room between us to tell each other things, experiment, and play without calling it betrayal. That genuinely surprised her.

—I thought you were behaving like an asshole, she admitted.

—Sometimes I am, but not because of that.

She burst out laughing and kissed me again, more gently.

—Well, your story interests me almost as much as your cock.

—I could introduce you to her someday.

She raised her eyebrows.

—Don't joke about that.

—I'm not joking.

She thought about it while tying back her hair. Then she looked at me with an even more mischievous spark than when she'd come in.

—Then this confession just got a whole lot better.

We left the bathroom separately, checking that no one was in the locker-room corridor. Before turning the corner, she grabbed my wrist and planted a quick kiss on me, still dirty with the taste of my come.

—Next time, she whispered, I don't intend to settle for a shitty stall.

—Next time there'll be more room. And more time.

—And maybe more people, if what you told me is true.

I squeezed her ass for a second beneath the athletic jacket she'd already put on.

—If you want, yes.

We parted with the feigned naturalness of two adults who had just fucked like animals five yards from the showers. Over the following days, we continued running into each other at work and at the gym. To everyone else, everything seemed normal. But it wasn't anymore.

Every time I saw her in uniform, I remembered her mouth full of me. Every time I ran into her in leggings, I thought about how she'd ridden me on top of the toilet until she came trembling. And every time we greeted each other in front of other people, she held my gaze for one second too long, just long enough to remind me that it hadn't been an isolated turn-on.

A female coworker of mine, who knew quite a bit about my games and my partner's, didn't take long to notice.

—The female cop can't take her eyes off you, she told me one afternoon with half a smile.

—You see ghosts.

—No. I see desire. And I know you too well.

I shrugged, but inside I laughed. Because she was right. Nadia looked at me the way you look at something you've already tried and want to repeat. And I was exactly the same. The ticket was behind us. What remained now was a new story, one of those confessions that begin with a ridiculous problem and end with a woman swallowing your come in a gym bathroom while you think, with perfect calm, that hopefully this is only the beginning.