Love on the Overnights

For three and a half months Stew and Sherry were an item. They'd managed a date here and there and were really hitting it off. The 'occasional' rendezvous at work was happening as well but whereas the first couple of times no one had cared, first several times actually. As long as Stew answered his calls and didn't sneak off TOO often, everyone was cool with it. One night however he and Jim were sitting, side by side when Jim started talking about Sherry.

"You two getting pretty serious, huh?" he began.

"I think so. She's great and seems to like me well enough."

"Stew, I have to be honest, you have to tone it down at work. I know it's easier for you guys, what with the conflicting schedules, but, even the sarge is starting to notice. He's a terrific guy with a 'fight the power' attitude and even he's had a bit of fun on shift. Hell, me, too, but with me it was my wife who wanted to fulfill a fantasy, but that's neither here nor there."

"Are you saying we should quit screwing around?"

Jim hesitated. "No, not entirely, though it wouldn't be a bad idea, but I mean, it seems like you guys are parked somewhere, out of your cruisers for an hour or so almost twice a week. Other people DO notice things and we can't keep covering for you."

Stew sat listening intently. His mind began to search for any and all times they bumped into someone whether it was going into, coming out of or once, just as they were starting to make out inside a building. Some fast talking got them around that one. Inside, he was almost in a panic, but Jim, seeing his face beginning to blanch tried to reassure him, while still issuing a warning. "Stew, you've covered yourself pretty well so far, so has Sherry. You've picked decent nights, well not EVERY night..."

Stew knew exactly what he was talking about. One night he and Sherry were in the Fine Arts building when a student was robbed on the other side of campus. He and Sherry were just stripping down in the 4th floor student lounge when Jim called off he saw the suspect hiding in some bushes. Stew had already starting re-dressing, but now had to rush to get dressed which also entailed putting on his duty belt which in itself could be a chore. Sherry, knowing that the city cops might be called if this guy ran, threw on her clothes just as quickly.

Suddenly Jim hollered into the radio that he was in a foot chase. Stew began to panic as he fumbled with his keepers to hold the belt on and slipping into his shoes as he ran, headed out the door. Sherry, not wanting to be caught in building without someone from the college, finished buttoning her shirt and ran after him, making sure the door shut tight behind them.

Luckily Stew had dressed in record time and made it over to where Jim had last seen the suspect. They did a quick search and found the guy hiding under a car. Jim hadn't been too happy that night and had to cover for Stew who managed to make it to the call AFTER Sergeant Jack O'Meara who was coming from the station and had been caught in mid-defecation. Jim was not pleased with Stew that night. But since it all worked out alright in the end, Jim got over it, but NEVER forgot it.

"All I'm saying is, why not cut way back on doing it at work, or maybe cut it out all together for a while, finished Jim. "Lecture over. You've been here a long time now, you know the score and I have faith you'll do the right thing."

Jim drove off after asking Stew if he wanted a coffee. Stew politely declined and just sat for a few minutes, embarrassed at having been spoken to and about HAVING to be spoken to. He just sat for a bit still thinking before cruising around a bit on his side of the campus.

His cell phone rang so he pulled over and answered. Of course it was Sherry. "Hello sexpot. You up for a romp tonight?"

"Sherry, let's talk. Can I meet you, OFF campus somewhere?" asked Stew.

"Is...is something wrong, Stew?" she asked, a bit of concern was evident in her voice. When anyone ever said, 'can we talk' or things to that effect, it often wasn't good. "Yeah, you know the market on State Street, Johnson's Meat?" She chuckled. Every time she said that store name, she chuckled. Stew said he did and off he went to meet her. It was only about a quarter mile off campus so he could get back quick if he had to.

They parked alongside each other in the usual manner and Stew said, "Sherry, we can't do this anymore."

Sherry was taken aback. "You're breaking UP WITH ME? WHY? WHAT'S GOING ON?"

"NO, HOLY SHIT, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!" Stew realized exactly what he had just said and tried to catch Sherry before...too late. She was in tirade mode and it was all he could to calm her.

"WHAT THE HELL DID I DO TO YOU? YOU MESSING WITH MY FEELINGS? WHAT KIND OF AN ASSHOLE ARE YOU?"

"Sherry, Sherry, listen, LISTEN, to me. I'm NOT saying anything like breaking up or splitting up or even taking a break from each other, holy shit, please, just calm down and actually listen to every word. I mean, I may say something STUPID again, so please, take the totality of what I say into account, not just random stupidities."

Sherry did calm down. She hadn't begun to cry yet, that was a plus. Stew hadn't seen this side of Sherry and it really kind of scared the crap out of him. "Are you calm now?"

"Yes. Ok, what then? What do you want to say we have to stop?"

"Screwing around on shift. Jim and I had a little talk and he's right. It's a bit risky for us getting caught but more important, it's risky for the guys I work with. Do you recall the foot chase? Didn't I say that night we should knock this off after all was said and done?"

"Yeah, then we banged in four other buildings after that."

"Yeah, yeah, it's not a good idea. We really have to quit. I do NOT want to quit what we have overall though. To be honest Sherry," he hesitated, cleared his throat and...

"Car 231 come in please," chirped the dispatcher on Stew's radio.

"Hold on, Sherry." Then to the microphone, "Go ahead, 231 answering."

"Suspicious person outside Franklin Hall. Caller states that he's been out there for almost an hour just pacing and smoking. The caller is more concerned about the smoking, believe it or not?" replied the dispatcher. "Car 232 could you also head that way?"

Jim replied he would and Stew also acknowledged the call. "Gotta go. LOVE YOU!" and he drove off.

Sherry sat in stunned silence for a few minutes. "Did he just say, 'LOVE YOU'?" she wondered aloud to herself. "Is that what he was about to say. Do I love HIM? Gee, I just might. Hell, I'm sure I do. I'm going to go tell him right now."

Not knowing the campus all that well, it took her almost 15 minutes to find Franklin Hall which she found frustrating since, "It's obviously the one with two COP CARS parked out front," she muttered to herself."

As she approached, a cruiser came flying up, blue lights and siren going and passed her. She threw on the lights of her own car and followed. She had no idea what was happening. Though the college cops monitored and could jump onto the city radio frequency, but the chief of her department wouldn't authorize radios to monitor the college PD in town because as he put it, "We're too busy with our own stuff to bother listening to their bullshit." There was still a bit of the old archaic 'real cop' v. 'rent-a-cop' mentality in the city police even though the college had had its own POLICE for almost 50 years.

As she sped towards their final destination she saw that the three cops were struggling with a guy. He was not small guy, but not that big either. But her experience told her that, even a small, skinny guy can fight like a maniac if he or SHE doesn't want to be arrested. Way too many cops had been hurt by the smaller people because the cops didn't feel there would be much of a fight. It was a lesson she had learned early on.

She ran over and jumped in. It took all four of the cops to get this guy cuffed and under control. As he lay on his stomach, the suspect began to scream, "YOU BROKE MY ARMS! HEY, THEY BROKE MY ARMS. POLICE BRUTALITY!" Sgt. O'Meara said, "Get that asshole out of here, NOW!" and Sherry and Jim dragged the guy over to Jim's cruiser and put him in the back, the whole time he kept yelling, "BASTARDS! YOU TRIED TO KILL ME. GET ME TO A HOSPITAL, YOU BROKE MY FUCKING ARMS!"

Suddenly Sherry realized Stew was still on the ground and Sgt. O'Meara was kneeling over him. She looked at Jim who essentially just nodded for her to go over, which she did.

When she got there, Stew was just trying to get up but she could see he was in agony. "What happened? How bad is it?" She was beginning to stress out. Stew managed a small chuckle, though he winced through it, "I think that guy broke my ribs, maybe one, maybe I'm dying, I don't know."

The sergeant called for an ambulance even though Stew said, "I can drive myself there."

"Yeah, ok hero. You try and I'll have you suspended." Came the reply.

Sherry at this point realized she hadn't even called off. "Car 221, I'm off with the college guys at their Franklin Hall. I just assisted with an arrest, just FYI."

Her sergeant wanted a phone call, asked her the usual questions and told her to write a report. She wanted to go with Stew to the hospital, but everyone told her, "No, you'll just be a pain in the ass. Do what you gotta do at your own station. We'll let you know." Jim started to give Sherry a quick rundown on what had happened but O'Meara made it clear that the guy had to be put somewhere fast. He told Sherry that she would get a copy of Jim's report so she could put the pertinent information into hers. Then, once the ambulance had taken Stew off, Jim and O'Meara sped off with the suspect, who was still screaming in the back of the car.

Sherry was on pins and needles. As she tried to write her report, the guy Jim and Stew had arrested was being booked downstairs. She went down and found Jim standing in the booking area. She waited until he wasn't in the middle of something and pulled him out. "So, what the hell happened?" she asked.

In the meantime, the guy was still screaming, but now, without an audience (other than the cops) he was no longer yelling POLICE BRUTALITY! He just complained of his civil rights being violated and his arms being broken. An ambulance was summonsed and the EMTs did a quick check and said, "These arms are NOT broken, but we can take him to get x-rays." The cops all agreed, it would be best and off the guy went, with Jim in tow...he was the arresting officer, the guy was his responsibility.

Sherry was now left with no information. Tough to write a report when you don't know the story. She checked with her own sergeant and he agreed she should go to the hospital to get whatever she needed.

When she got there, Jim was waiting just outside the x-ray lab praying this asshat wouldn't try anything stupid. He saw Sherry and they hugged. "Shit Jim, what the hell happened?"

"We pull up and see the guy pacing and smoking like a chimney. We get out and Stew calls out to him. He stops for a second, then starts pacing again. All we want to do is talk to the guy, you know, the usual, 'what's going on?', 'who are you?', 'why are you here?' The usual. He starts yelling about his rights and we are fascists and have no right to question him and blah blah blah. Then, out of nowhere he runs full tilt at Stew and tackles him. While he's doing this, he starts yanking on Stew's gun. I jump in. Thank God we were both there. As we're fighting, I yell into the radio, SOMETHING, I'm not even sure, but it was apparently enough for the sarge to scream up there and YOU, thank YOU!"

"I was just looking to get a clarification from Stew on something he said. I'm glad it work...STEW! I've GOT to check on Stew!" and she walked very quickly to the emergency room where she found a nurse and quizzed her about the cop who was brought in. "Oh, he's down in x-ray." Came the reply. On her way back she bumped into Sgt. O'Meara who had come to take Stew's gun belt. "Calm down, hun," he said reassuringly, "he's going to be fine." She acknowledged him, thanked him and scampered off.

Sherry buzzed BACK to see Jim sitting with the prisoner who was shackled and surprisingly calm. "Doctor said he's probably NOT got a broken arm." Sneered Jim. The guy just said there mumbling about lawyers and law suits.

"Stew is down here." Said Sherry.

"He IS? I guess that would make sense." Said Jim.

Motioning towards the suspect, "He tell you anything about why he attacked you guys?"

"He's pleading the fifth. A GRADUATE student. Can you believe it? But not law, though he seems to think he's Johnny Cochran."

Once the suspect had been cleared of ANY injuries, Jim requested the city send a wagon to transport the guy, whose name turned out to be Langston Millbury, the THIRD, back for holding. Jim would then write his full report and Sherry could pick it up a copy at the college PD and not only get the needed information but drop it off to the city's front desk so they'd have a copy of why Langston Millbury 3 was sitting in their cell.

Sherry hung around until Stew came out of the x-ray department. She met him as he sheepishly walked back to the E/R. "Shouldn't you be in a wheel chair?" she asked. "Screw that. I'm too macho for that," he replied as he winced and tried to hold back a tear or two.

The doctors finished checking him, told him that he did indeed have a cracked rib, but it was hairline and there was nothing they could do for him other than strongly advise rest and pain meds. "No, we're not giving you morphine." The staff was very stern on this matter.

It had been a very horribly interesting night and the shift was over. Stew had gone back to the station to fill out some paperwork even though O'Meara made it clear he could swing by Stew's and drop it off. He also gave all pertinent information to Jim to add into the report, then he went straight home, declining a ride from the campus shuttle van. "Too far off campus and I need my car anyway," he whimpered.

Sherry had finished up all her work and had made a half assed attempt to get back on patrol, piecing together everything that had happened. "Ok, she thought, No more screwing around on duty. Stew's recovering from cracked ribs. Everyone knows about us. Stew LOVES me. STEW LOVES ME!" In spite of everything, she began to beam. That was it. She couldn't do a damn thing for the last hour of the shift but sit and beam like a 4 year old with a new toy.

When she got off duty, she rushed over to Stew's apartment. She buzzed his door bell and it took, what seemed like forever for him to answer. "Yeah, who is it?" "Sherry. Do you need anything?" "NO, c'mon up." And he buzzed her in.

When she got there she asked why it had taken so long for him to answer the door. "I'm in a bit of pain and movement is NOT a joyful experience. Plus I had just sat down, in the bathroom. Also NOT a joyful experience. What do you want?"

"What do I WANT? I'm here to help you in any way I can. I figure you'll need some help with stuff, food, pillow fluffing, whatever." She paused, "Did you say you love me last night?"

"Did I? Ah, yeah, I guess I did," he replied trying to sit without screaming. She saw the look on his face and said, "Oh come on, it's just a hairline fracture, suck it up tough guy."

"HAVE YOU EVER HAD A HAIRLINE FRACTURE TO YOUR RIB?" he wailed.

"No, I..."

"THEN SHUT UP!" and he nearly fainted and he closed one of his eyes so tight Sherry thought he looked like Popeye the Sailor and she had to stifle a giggle. Stew didn't appreciate that.

"Better you have a key to my apartment so I don't have to get up every time you come over." Said Stew.

She liked that idea. After about an hour of doting on him she said she would head home for a bit to get some rest and would be by later. Stew thanked her and they kissed good-bye. Off she went taking Stew's keys with her.

Three days passed. Sherry would finish her shift and go straight to Stew's where she'd spend the day caring for him, spoiling him really. Stew was eating it up. He had the sexiest nurse on the planet taking care of him.

On the fifth day, Stew had just knocked down three ibuprophens and was wincing less. He was feeling better and when Sherry showed up, he was naked and smiling, sitting in his recliner, the ONLY way he could get any sleep. Sherry sat and looked at him shaking her head. "Really? You feel up for sex?"

Stew just sat with a big grin nodding. Sherry said, "No, you will not get me on that thing, potentially doing more harm." Noticing that he was semi-erect. "Ever take the law into your own hands? Ever rough up the suspect?"

Stew hesitated. He had to think for a second and then light dawned on Marblehead and he said, "Oh, of course. Lately it's with pictures of you running naked through my brain."

"Ok, you take care of yourself. If you can get through it without crying out in pain, maybe, JUST MAYBE, tomorrow I'll give you a blow job." She responded.

Stew looked heartbroken but actually thought it wasn't a bad idea. Sort of a shake-down cruise. "Plus, to be honest," continued Sherry, "I've never watched a guy jack off in person. Seen porns, but never in person. I am curious...yellow." Stew looked confused. "It's an old famous porn mov...never mind. Please me by pleasing yourself."

Stew did. He began slowly as his cock began to harden; his hand moving up and down. He could really only use one hand at a time because reaching with both meant bending too much and THAT meant pain. He swirled his finger around the head and used the little bit of pre-cum to lubricate his shaft. Sherry watched very closely, taking in each movement, examining his cock as he went. As the pace slowly quickened, she paid special attention to how Stew would slack off a bit on his grip now and then and just sort of let the fingers brush up and down. "How are you feeling right now?" she asked.

"Not bad, a little pain, but...you know something, this might sound terrible, but I can kind of see why exhibitionists do this. I'm jacking off to a fully dressed woman and it's a bit of a turn on. It's so NAUGHTY!"

"Just don't ever consider doing it in front of anyone else unless I'm there and have given my OK."

"You would want to be there? Would it be a woman? You would be OK with that?" Stew's pace quickened.

"I'd make sure she watched you closely, like I am. While she did, I'd rub her shoulders through her shirt. I'd trace my fingers up behind her ears and up and down her neck, whispering into her ear, 'He's mine. You can have him, but you have to go through me.'"

Stew's pace now quickened to the point his hand was a blur. Suddenly, "AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" he shot his load straight up and it landed on his chest. At the same moment he groaned in pleasure, he yelped in pain. It was wonderfully excruciating.

Sherry laughed and said, "Imagine if I was riding you? I'm glad we found out this way instead of the hard way." Stew reluctantly agreed.

Sherry made him some breakfast and they watched TV together. Stew loved cop movies so they ended up watching some classics from the early to mid 1970s. Sherry had never seen some of them and was impressed. They watched for hours until Sherry began to get very drowsy. "Long night, babe. I should get going."

Stew suggested she sleep in his bed. He wasn't about to try lying down so she could have the whole thing to herself rather than driving home. Since it was her night off, she liked the idea and due to her hospice care for her poor sick baby, she had left some clothes and a few things at Stews. They WERE getting serious.

The next morning Sherry got up and made breakfast for both of them. Stew was healing. It was still a ways off before he'd be able to go back to work, but he was improving daily. After they ate, Stew said he wanted a shower. He NEEDED a shower. All this 'washing up' was better than nothing, at least he wasn't feeling like a street bum, but he needed to REALLY clean up. Sherry said she'd help him, but showering alone was the only sensible thing, though she'd wash his back from OUTSIDE the tub. Stew agreed.