Ta muchly for all the kind reviews - always appreciated, but even more so when you're trying something a bit out of the comfort zone.
Mrs Hunt is pretty much my creation, as we find out so little about her in LOM, or about their relationship. Young Diana Dors, maybe? (Thanks, Fen!)

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Chapter 2

Gene Hunt had never been renowned as the epitome of sartorial elegance, so to find himself fantasising about a sharper suit, a long black coat and a pair of crocodile skin boots was a little worrying to say the least. That, and a strange desire to grow his hair longer.

"Right. Let's fire up the Cortina …"

Ray and Chris looked at each other in confusion, and Sam raised an enquiring eyebrow.

"Come again, Guv?"

"Nothin'. Time to go and catch some scum, boys."

He knew Sam had spotted a change in him the last month or so, he could hardly fail to when his dinosaur of a DCI had actually used the words 'evidence' and 'psychology' more than once. He said very little though, presumably just assuming that his 'Hyde ways' were finally beginning to rub off and allowing himself the occasional smirk when he thought Gene wasn't looking.

Ray and Chris had noticed a marked difference in one particular aspect of his behaviour also, and hadn't hesitated to comment on it.

"Leavin' so soon, Guv? You on a promise again? She must be after a new kitchen or somethin'."

Ray winked at Chris as Gene stood and picked up his coat.

"She just appreciates me legendary prowess in the bedroom, lads, as yer know. Right, duty calls."

"He's worried there's another bloke, that's what it is."

He overheard Carling's parting remark as he was leaving the pub and gritted his teeth. He could hardly tell them the truth, could he? That he was overcome with lust for a fantasy female DI in a red satin bra, and his wife was the outlet for all his pent up frustration.

"Gene."

"I know …"

He groaned. Dammit, now he'd have to drive home almost bent double. Again.

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Gene had never had any trouble attracting women. His macho swagger, his height and his blond good looks caught their attention first, his cocky charm drew them in, and before they knew it they were under his spell. Resistance was ultimately futile, and the back seat of his car had seen plenty of action by the time he met Cynthia.

She was different, though. He knew she fancied him but she had a will of iron: it was weeks before she even allowed him 'inside upstairs', and she refused point blank to sleep with him until they were engaged. By the time he was thirty he'd made DI, got married and acquired a mortgage, and he was reasonably contented with his lot. He and the missus rubbed along well enough together: she was attractive, she could rustle up a mean roast dinner, and she wasn't lacking in enthusiasm between the sheets now she'd finally got that ring on her finger.

He had to admit he was far from a saint, he hadn't always stayed faithful but did any man once they'd been married for a while? He worked long hours to provide for her and she was often fast asleep by the time he got home. He had needs, after all, and he soon discovered there were plenty of women who were more than happy to attend to them. Seemed some plonks had a thing about Alpha males in positions of authority. No doubt it helped that he was well endowed and he knew how to show a lady a good time: they all came back for seconds, so he knew he must be doing something right.

Which rather begged the question, what the hell was he doing with a copy of the Kama Sutra hidden in his desk drawer?

"Never trust a man who owns a sex guide. There are some things yer should know how ter do without readin' a manual."

He turned the illustration upside down and squinted at it, scratching his head. He wasn't entirely sure he could actually get into that position, and if he did manage it he probably wouldn't be able to move without pulling something.
He sat back with his feet crossed at the ankle and lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag. Why on earth was he worrying about pleasing some figment of his imagination, for God's sake? It made no sense, and yet he had the strongest feeling that they actually knew one another, or at least they would. Logically he knew it had to be bollocks, but he couldn't shake the conviction. He closed his eyes for a couple of seconds.

"Blimey, if that skirt was hitched any higher I could see what yer had fer breakfast."

There she was in his mind's-eye again, looking unbelievably shaggable. He sighed, throwing the book back in the drawer and locking it before spotting a doodle from earlier which he didn't remember doing. Alex Drake, all curly perm and big tits, was bent over his desk while he took her vigorously from behind. He pouted, running his fingers through his hair, his body responding instantly. Seemed like the present Mrs Hunt was in for another good seeing to later.

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When he got home that evening, she was in the kitchen listening to the radio while she peeled the potatoes for dinner. She had her hair pinned up and he crept up behind her, kissing the back of her neck while his hands slid up her body to cup her breasts, squeezing gently.

"Gene! Stop it, the neighbours might see."

He spun her round and made short work of the buttons on her blouse, bending his head to nuzzle at a nipple through her bra, then he paused for a second as if in thought.

"Hmmm. Her next door has a bit of a thing fer me. Maybe I should give her a good sortin' first?"

"Don't you even think about it, Eugene Hunt. Yer know I'm not a forgivin' woman."

She pulled his head back down to her breast, and he smirked triumphantly against her skin. One hand crept slowly up her nylon-clad thigh, and then he cursed quietly.

"Bloody tights. Yer might as well be wearin' a chastity belt, woman. I'll get yer some silk stockings, they really give me the 'orn."

She giggled as he dragged the nylons unceremoniously down her legs, not caring if he laddered them.

"Christ, Gene. If yer get the 'orn any more often I doubt I'll be able ter walk straight …"

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Lucky old Cynthia's having all the fun at the moment, but I suspect a certain female DI may well make an appearance at some point …
Hope you're still enjoying, I'd love to hear from you. :)