A quick hot interlude with the new detective spices up Bobby's day.
Detective Goren walked by the ladies locker room at the NYPD Gym, whereupon he spied the new recruit, Detective Heather Hornee`, a dark haired beauty from the Deep South. Someone swung the door open a little too far and there she was in her towel. He was first bewitched by her when she, along with Bishop and Eames, had Nicole spread eagled on the floor and deadpanned the Sister Sledge classic, "We are family. I got all my sisters with me."
She, for her part, could not help herself. Since she was 17 and was first introduced to the ways of love by Gene Simmons on the back of a tour bus-or was it she who had Gene?- there were two things she looked forward to each day and they both involved handling a gun.
"Hi Detective Goren," she cooed, dropping her towel to the floor. "I've been meaning to ask you out for coffee. I think this is more intimate, don't you?"
She grabbed his tie and pushed him into dark corner. It was all he could do nod. He was in a state of rapture; her body was so beautiful, wavy dark hair, chocolate brown eyes, full breasts and rosebud lips, legs and thighs that could choke a bear. His cock was so hard and heavy it nearly hit the floor. He was shy but it didn't take long, her tongue taking barely a second to part his lips and find his.
It took her even less time to unwind his boa constrictor and wrap her legs around it so you would wonder who the snake was, really.
Four or five strokes and she was usually a good way up the mountain but this time it immediately felt different; she wanted more, something deep and refined that went beyond being probed. She wanted to savor being savored, along with every inch, every thrust.
And he delivered. He positioned himself deeper into her with each throttle. The circular motion of the rubbing of his genitals against hers could be construed as no less than clitoral harassment, a crime in itself for whom the punishment was death by ecstasy. He kept pushing, pushing his tip into her reservoir. Any second, any second now, he would fill her with hot, gushing, liquid.
The moment came, like a violent, tortuous earthquake that would have made the Himalayas fall had Bobby inserted his penis into them. "Oh my god! Oh my god!" he cried into her shoulder. Shockwaves ran through her cervix, and she could be silent no more. "Ah ah ah iii eeee!" she shuddered.
Bang, bang, bang went the lockers. Eames looked up. "They must be remodeling next door," she said to Logan. He looked up skeptically.
The rollercoaster her pussy sent them on would not stop. She clung to him as if being electrocuted, her sweet spot caught up in the undertow of his semen. Every time he pulled back she followed, or her vagina did, praying an egg did not follow along in the riptide.
Finally when his dick began to slacken and even she began to tire, their moans slowed and they collapsed in each other's arms, mutual juices dripping on the squad room floor. "I hope we can meet again like this some time," she barely got out. "Yeah," he mumbled, barely able to put his dick back in his pants.
It wasn't hollow talk. This time was different, they both thought.