Jaycee's Blog - Fri, May 26

I promised I'd have some fun at the police station, and what do I do?

I FUCKING DELIVER!

First, there was the ladies changing room, where I had Biff (as Fake Samantha) make out with a tall and fit female (whose name I never learned, so I'll call her Giraffe) while the two of them were alone in there. Giraffe was halfway dressed and resisted Fake Sam's advances at first, but I had Tarantina light a fire in her loins that had her on top of my homophobic companion in no time. The two were scissoring each other passionately (again, thanks to some enhancing magic from Tarantina) when another female officer walked in on them. That one (let's call her Gazelle) was a little skinny, so Tarantina expanded her boobs and jacked up her arousal so that she was soon on the floor, frantically pawing her oversized (and exposed) boobs with one hand and rubbing her crotch through her pants with the other. Two other chicks walked in and were similarly excited until all five of them were a writhing tangle of arms and legs on the floor.

Like a good maestro, I conducted their sexy symphony until a well-synchronized (and lubricated) apotheosis.

Then there was the issue of Director Amanda Morin, who according to some informations I gleaned from officers Sam and Alex has a tendency to overanalyze the simplest situations and micromanage everyone. (She has a deputy director named Marc whose job she used to have, but apparently still prefers doing to her own.) I've had bosses like that in the past and they drive me nuts.

So I slipped into her office unnoticed, gave her a few instructions, and sat back in a corner as I watched. When her deputy walked in to report on the current cases, every time she asked a question her arousal went up a notch. After just five minutes, she was starting to breathe heavily and was sweating a little. She told her deputy to leave her because she "had to make an urgent call." After he was gone, she tried to calm down, but that wasn't going to happen. The arousal—as I had "programmed" it—wouldn't go down until she had an orgasm, and the longer she waited, the more powerful and loud it would be (not that she knew any of that, just saying). She must have spent a good 5-10 minutes sitting there, clutching at the edge of her desk, trying to calm down, and failed. Then her desk phone rang and she picked up without thinking. The person at the other end must have asked her a few questions because her condition quickly got worse. She hung up quickly, pretending it was "the other line" while she reached down to rub herself.

She came hard and loud, so much so that someone came knocking at her door to ask if she was all right. She recovered quickly and explained that she'd just received some "bad personal news, but everything's okay."

That happened two more times during the morning and by lunch time she was a sticky and smelly mess. She went back home (with me in the back of her car). She didn't go back to work for the rest of the day. Instead, Biff and I had tons of sex at her home, either with her flat against a window facing the street or loudly in her backyard, with tons of neighbors working from home hearing all the blistering action.

Ironically, the police were called in to quiet things down a little, but thanks to her rank she managed to avoid getting into too much trouble. I let her get away with it. I didn't mind. The real damage was to her reputation and avoiding trouble with the police wouldn't change that.

Aaah, it's good to be me. :)

--Jaycee