‘PAYBACK TIME’
© Mesmerr
5
“What’s up?” Patrolman Allan Manning said to his partner, as he wove his way in and out of the heavy traffic, looking for a break so he could move further forward. He hated heavy traffic and would have whacked on the siren, if his senior partner hadn’t disallowed it. He hated having a senior partner, too, particularly a woman.
“Nothing. You just keep your eyes on the traffic. One more dent in this car and we’ll both be hooffin’ our way round the beat! You got that, Home-boy?”
Patrolman Manning also hated being called, ‘Home-boy’. He knew it wasn’t anything personal, although at times, he knew he wasn’t exactly sure about that, either. It was just the way she talked in her Hispanic slang whenever she wasn’t consciously choosing her English.
“Something’s been bothering you.” He persisted, pissed off with her unwarranted hostility toward him. He suddenly glanced sideways as he swerved to miss a stupid woman who had cut him off, without indicating her intention to change lanes.
“Stupid cow!” He spat, as he glared at the cowering woman.
“Hey, Homey!” His partner admonished him instantly. “Show some respect and watch your ‘own’ damn drivin’!”
Patrolman Manning also hated her calling him, ‘Homey’. In fact, truth be known, he hated her, or at least, he hated being ‘stuck’ with her. He would have rather had an American senior officer and a male to drive for and learn from, although he knew his female partner was one of the most experienced and toughest, in the entire precinct; an officer who had twice been awarded the medal for bravery in the line of duty, before reaching the ripe old age of thirty-five.
He knew also that she was always first call on the Swat team’s hot list whenever they needed someone who knew no fear. She was tough, all right. In fact, he knew if she were any tougher she’d probably frigging rust, he’d concluded many times when she had saved his ass from a tight spot.
He’d long given up on the idea of trying to get into her pants, concluding they were probably made of iron, too, to go with her tough personality.
Senior police officer Chicolita Fernandez, ‘Chico’ to those whom she allowed to call her ‘friend’, which were not that many, sighed and relaxed back into the firm leather seat of the police squad car. White boys! She thought sarcastically.
They got no respect. They got no class and they got no respect. They might have the upper hand in society, but they got no respect, for anything or anyone. And the young moron just out of the academy that was driving her dangerously and impatiently in and out of the traffic wasn’t any different. All they thought about was their belly and what hung from it, with their minds ever rarely, if at all, above their navel.
“Only trying to help.” Her young partner persisted.
Chico said nothing-just turned and glanced away from his inquiring gaze and out of the window, wishing she was anywhere else, but right there with him at that moment. Her mind ‘had’ been in two places that had caused her silence and aroused her partner’s curiosity.
The first place had been the warmth of her own bed on the previous night when she had knelt on all fours above her lover like a large chocolate-skinned cat and had received the pleasurable blessing of hot lips, sharp teeth and a long firm tongue in her tight Cuban ass and pussy.
She had gripped hard with her own mouth at that exact moment and had used it to perfection. So vigorous had been her own mouthing and tonguing ministrations that she’d had a sore jaw on the inside that morning, the dull ache of which was only just now beginning to pass.
“Just being friendly.” She heard her partner say further.
“Drive, Homey!” She snapped, knowing he hated being called that. The other place Chico’s mind had been, had been on the strange feeling that she was being followed, or looked at, or watched-not the police car, but her, personally. The hair on the back of her neck never stood up and prickled unless somebody had been watching her. It had been that way all her life and she had never been wrong.
So far though, she hadn’t seen or noticed anybody or anything watching her. Nevertheless, she knew someone was. She sensed it, she felt it, and she ‘knew’ it. Her experience, however, as a police officer told her to wait until the creep made his move, but that didn’t stop her from feeling anxious, as tough as she was and appeared to others on the outside.
Chico had sensed the unnerving feeling during working hours on the job and also when going to and from work each day. She had also sensed it on her private time for almost the past two weeks, no matter where she went. The only time she had not felt it had been whenever she had been inside her own apartment.
She tensed and sighed quickly again as the squad car swerved violently and suddenly. She would get the pervert who was following her or watching her. And when she did she would personally rip his balls off and ram them down his friggin’ throat-that’s if the white moron driving her around didn’t kill her in the traffic first.
“Dumb-ass friggin’ Homey-Home-boy!” She spat frustratingly at her partner. “Police academy teach you to friggin’ drive like that, did they? ‘Jesus’, man!”