Tactical Pursuit: A Smut Audio Quickie [REMIX]
Rookie officer, Robinson, inadvertently triggers Cheryl’s cinnamon allergy. But that’s not the only thing that gets triggered…
Cheryl unholstered her Glock and stripped off her uniform before she’d even reached the kitchen. A cold beer and a scalding shower were in order after the day she’d had. I’m too old for this shit, she grumbled to no one, after she opened the fridge and realized she was all out of…everything.
Resigned, she retreated to the bathroom and turned on the faucet. Fog expeditiously filled the tiny space, prompting her to keep the door open. Cheryl paused in front of the full-length mirror and swiped at the condensation that had already begun to collect on it. Elongating her neck, she looked for any residual evidence of the hives that had peppered her face earlier in the day but found none.
Stupid Robinson. Who the hell puts cinnamon in coffee?
Even during her own cringeworthy rookie years, Cheryl had known better than to mess with a cop’s coffee. Black as night and blazing! But the fresh-faced Robinson had wanted to impress when she accepted his offer of a coffee run. Two sips in and it inadvertently triggered her cinnamon allergy, causing a mild, but immediate, reaction that would have her fellow veterans on the squad chiding her for weeks.
Stupid Robinson, walking around with those shoulders that stretch the fabric of his button-down to its limit. With that saunter and that ass in cheap polyester that no one has a right to look THAT good in!
Cheryl squinted through the warm haze at the mirror again, contemplating her own generous silhouette of middle age.
Stupid Robinson, with that toothy grin, following me around all day with apologies. Distracting me with those lips. And that silly, sideways grin…
She shook her head, but her left hand simultaneously found its way to the very tips of her nipples. She couldn’t resist giving them a tweak.
Stupid Robinson, who towers a whole foot and a half over me…
And then her right hand crept between her thighs. She lingered for a brief moment at the tuft of soft, dark spirals before slipping her middle finger between her labia.
Mmm…stupid Robinson…but on his knees, he could definitely reach my…
Cheryl’s reverie was interrupted by the loud ping of her cell phone. The short sprint to the bedroom where she’d left it met her with a rush of cold air, making her acutely aware of both her bum knee and her bouncing tits.
“Unknown contact,” announced the text message screen. She swiped it open.
“Hi, will the fact that I accidentally tried to kill you today, keep you from having a drink with me now?”*
Bemused, Cheryl chortled.
Then a second message pinged.
“It’s Rob, if you haven’t already guessed. I feel terrible about the coffee earlier. Please give me a chance to make it up to you. You pick the spot?”
And then a blushing, sideways grin emoji!
Cheryl frowned as permutations of how she should respond raced through her mind.
This is a bad idea, Robinson.
I’m twice your age for fuck’s sake!
But then a zealous frisson coursed down her spine. She did the mental math — shower, knee brace, jeans, t-shirt, boots, ponytail, lipstick…maybe. 15 minutes in a cab. Mmm…and she was craving…a beer.
Her reply was direct and efficient in keeping with her rank.
“Meet me at Casey’s on 10th in an hour.”
“And don’t be late, Stupid Robinson.”
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Written & Read by Carolyna Luna
Supporting Guest Vocals by Flynn Strokes
Post Image Credit: Womanizer Toys on Unsplash
*This sentence (only) was part of a prompt for a writing competition. It was not written by me. Given the anonymous nature of the competition, I am unable to attribute the author.