Officer Quinn's One Night Stand

Note from the Author: While most of my stories are largely fictitious, many elements of them are pieced together from real bits and pieces of me, my life, people I've known and places I've been. To name a few examples, I really did use to work as security at a casino in my early twenties; I was a cynical ass like Quinn; I had a female partner who inspired the Galloway character; and I got laid VERY much (though not as colorfully as Quinn does). While I usually distort reality (or fabricate it all together) for the sake of these stories, the following does not need distorting. It's 100% true (okay, maybe 99% true), but the names have been changed to protect the... not so... innocent...

***

I'm going to lay these cards on the table right now (no pun intended). While I normally write these stories for Kate Galloway, and I'm sure that you, the reader, indulge in them for the very same girl, I'm afraid that Galloway is going to be sitting this story out.

One of the little known problems that arise from working in such a smoky and crowded environment as a casino is the exposure to large numbers of strangers. The result is we'd get sick

very

frequently. Especially with the scores of unhygienic homeless people that would be bused in from nearby cities. The gaming floor had a smoking and a nonsmoking section that were

supposed

to be separate. They weren't. The whole damn place was one monstrous room. It didn't matter where you were. You'd get home, and your uniform would stink like you'd been at a smoky bar all night.

All of that smoke did not aid in a fast recovery from even a common cold. If anything, it only amplified the intensity and the duration. It wasn't uncommon for a head cold to knock you on your ass for weeks.

Of course, I hated getting sick. But the one thing that I hated more than being sick was when my partner, Galloway was sick. She was the only reason I would even willingly go to work, considering how much I hated that job. She was the best part of my day. She made a crappy shift fun, she could always make me laugh, and... let's face it... after our last few hook ups, we were pretty much a regular duo when it came to kinky, risky on-the-job sex.

I loved that girl. We were good buddies, and more than that, we were partners who trusted each other with our lives. Neither of us wanted anyone else as a partner. So the days when she was too ill to work, there was nothing to do but look at our usual haunts with longing and loneliness.

This was one of those times. She was out sick, and my only contact with her was now via text message.

While she was laid up in bed, recovering from a pretty severe respiratory sickness, I offered multiple times to come over and keep her company, even if just to make her some food and watch movies.

"Why?"

She would text me.

"Because I miss you."

"Again, why? We can't drink, we can't fuck, and I look like hell. Why would you want to come over?"

"Again, because I miss you." I said.

"That made me smile. I miss you too. But seriously turd, do not come over. I don't want you to see me like this."

"Can I at least come over and jerk off on you while you sleep?"

"Shut up,"

she replied.

"No seriously. I promise I'll be super quiet."

"It hurts to laugh. Stop it, you dick."

"I'm at work now. What the hell am I supposed to do without you?"

"Go get laid. Who's your partner, today?"

"Bentonridge."

"Who?"

"He's new. Just started today," I explained.

"Blech, fuckin' new guys."

She responded.

"I guess you're no longer the prettiest one here." I said jokingly.

"Fuck you Quinn. And to think I was hoping they'd hired some busty blonde slut for you to partner up with while I'm out sick. I take it all back."

"*Temporarily* No big tittied slut could replace you. I love you too, Galloway." I smiled.

"Seriously though. As your partner, I order you to go find some hot pussy to fuck in my absence. You have my blessing... as long as you give me details later."

Is it starting to make sense why this girl is the absolute fuckin' best?

***

It turns out, I did have someone in mind... kind of.

I didn't know her name. Our resort was still relatively new, and was under construction in many places. Particularly the shopping mall was still being built, and was an active construction sight. It was a large square area of mud and cement, dominated by cranes and earth movers. It was surrounded by chain link fence, and situated right next to the employee parking lot. Each day I would pass it as I walked from my car into work.

While Galloway might be the best part of my day, the second best part of my day was that walk. Because the construction site had their own security. They weren't associated with us in any way— we were employees of the casino. The construction site security guards were employees of one of those massive nation-wide security firms. The ones who usually hire complete morons, and pay them terrible shit wages.

I don't know where the hell they found this little gem, but the girl they posted at the construction sight was stunning. Each day as I crossed the parking lot at the start of my shift, I'd see her lounging in the security Jeep, usually reading a book. She was tall and slim, on the skinny side but not too skinny. She had small A cup breasts, but an ass that more than made up for it. Her hair was very light colored blonde, long and wild and curly— sort of like Madonna— with a Taylor Swift-like face. She had a little bit of a snaggletooth on her top front teeth. That sounds worse than it was— it was actually kind of cute. It was subtle, and it gave her face character. Sort of a slight mischief to her natural smile.

Each day as I'd pass her in her car, I'd throw her a small wave, and she'd respond in kind with a big smile. This probably went on for a couple of weeks.

I never gave this girl much thought, other than simply passing her in the parking lot. But today that was about to change.

Today I was assigned to the mobile unit (a.k.a. security's ultra intimidating Ford Escape) and tasked with driving aimlessly around outdoor casino grounds for the next eight hours. Typically, we were concerned with patrolling the parking deck, thwarting robberies and rapes (that never happened). Usually we'd just end up jump-starting cars with dead batteries, or reporting dead-beat parents who left their kids in the car while they went inside to gamble. And yes, the latter happened more than you'll ever care to know. You get why I'm a cynic?

It was such a hit or miss post. You were completely isolated from the inside of the casino itself, and the debauchery that went on within. That could be a good thing or a bad thing. If Galloway was with me, the mobile unit was a blast. Even without having risky on-duty car sex, it was fun. If I was alone, it was boring and time crawled, but at least it was quiet. And if I was stuck with anyone else, it was tedious torture.

Today, my partner was this new kid, Bentonridge. He wasn't even old enough to drink yet. He was good looking, but clearly he was a jock in high school, and therefore his personality was lacking a bit. The guy had literally nothing to talk about other than working out. Granted, I frequent the gym, myself. But this guy was so into his workouts, I would actually consider him a geek. Only instead of talking about Sci-fi franchises, he'd prattle on and on about supplements and proteins he'd take to enhance his already bulging muscles.

It was painful to ride with him. I was bored before we even reached the mobile unit.

"I fuckin' hate training new people," I told him.

He blinked. "Sorry?"

"It's not your fault," I explained to him. "This job is a pain in the ass, the shifts are boring, and we've got a high turnover rate. So most likely I'll make the effort the train you today, and in six months I won't even remember your name because you either got bored and split, or you got shit-canned for trying to make work fun and got caught. So no offense to you, but today is going to suck."

Bentonridge looked genuinely surprised by my candor. Fuck it. I wasn't going to sugarcoat things for him. He deserved to know what he was getting himself into. I left out that really the only reason he might stay at this job is because he'll be too wrapped up in chasing pussy.

As we drove around the casino lots, making slow meandering loops, he told me about his girlfriend. Some high school sweetheart of his who sent him cutesy text messages. That wouldn't last. Some slutty cocktail waitress would wreck that fairytale story, turn Bentonridge into a dog, and give his poor girl trust issues for the rest of her life. A story as old as time...

There wasn't much to explain about the job. "This is it dude," I said. "Just drive around. If they need you, they'll call you over the radio."

"Really? How do you keep from getting bored?"

I shrugged. "Bring a book, bring crossword puzzles. Do what you need to do, just don't fall asleep or get caught masturbating and you'll be fine."

He laughed.

"Watch what you say to people, and watch what you get caught doing. Some of theses guards kiss ass to management really hard. Me, I don't give a fuck what you do. Just don't make me your alibi, and don't put me in a spot where I have to lie for you."

"Deal."

He wasn't bad company, I suppose. He just wasn't good company either. Naturally, I was missing my partner by the time we came around the rear of the casino. The construction sight came into view.

I spotted her security Jeep parked near the gates into the massive mud pit filled with earth movers. The cute blonde with the wild hair had her nose in a book. I cruised past, close enough to get her attention.

She glanced up and smiled brightly when she recognized it was me who was driving the mobile. She threw me a wave and I returned it. As I passed, I thought about what Galloway had told me— urging me to go find someone to fill the void while she was out of commission.

Part of me wanted to believe that she wasn't serious. But I knew that she was... that was the fucked up part.

After a minute I figured

Oh what the hell?

I spun the wheel and looped us back around. I came up beside the blonde's Jeep.

Bentonridge looked at me, puzzled.

"Wait here," I told him. I stepped out of the Ford, straightened my uniform and approached the Jeep. She was already rolling down her window as I neared.

She was still smiling at me, a little surprised that I came up to her.

"Hello," I greeted her. "I walk past you every day, and I don't know your name. I'm Scott."

"Eva," she responded.

I blinked. "I don't hear that one every day."

"I know. I used to hate it, but it grew on me." As she talked, I could see her eyes flick down along my body. Women have a way of letting you know if they're being flirty. She was checking me out.

I went with one of my go-to lines— keep it simple, honest, and to the point. "I always noticed you, and thought you looked like an interesting person. I don't know when your shift is over, but I get out of here at eleven tonight. I was planning to go get a beer, if you wanted to meet up?"

"Definitely," she said, rather frankly.

In my years, I found that was always the best way of asking.

I'm going out to have fun. Would you like to come?

Don't make the invitation dependent on whether or not she's down for it. You were going to do it regardless of what she says. She's just along for the ride. Women like that. It makes you sound interesting and independent.

We traded numbers on the spot. To be honest, I didn't have high hopes. There were still about seven hours in my shift. Plenty of time for her to conjure up an excuse to back out. I'm a firm believer in 'strike while the iron is hot'. In other words, if you meet someone and find that you have chemistry, my advice is to parlay that into a date immediately. None of this 'What are you doing Thursday' crap. The further away your next encounter with her is, the greater the chances that she'll either lose interest, fabricate an excuse to bail, or get snatched up by someone who moves much faster.

My point is, I didn't have much faith that she'd still be interested once my shift was over, but it was worth a shot.

As we made small talk while trading numbers (you know, the usual "Hang on while I navigate these menus... oh screw it, I'll just text you now so you can save my number" awkwardness) I found her checking me out again. She wasn't shy about it. I got the impression that she was trying to get caught looking. I smiled at her, and I detected the slightest hint of something naughty in her expression.

Maybe it was that glance, or maybe it was the fact that I generally didn't think she'd actually follow through with meeting up with me... or maybe I legitimately hated this job so much that if I got fired, it wouldn't make a difference to me. Regardless, when the next words just sort of fell out of my mouth, I was actually startled that I had even said them at all:

"Eva, I think we both know where I'm going with my invitation. Do you want to just skip the beers, and meet up to fuck?"

It was definitely one of the most impulsive things I've ever done before. I couldn't believe I just asked that. Moreover, I couldn't believe that I had done it so smoothly, without sounding like a stammering moron. My complete lack of giving a shit what her answer would be was probably the only reason that came out so easily.

Even as I finished my sentence, I was sure it would end with me sitting in the HR office, suffering through an inquisition, before being promptly terminated. But if that happened, I could already see Galloway laughing her ass off about it. Sometimes in life, you have to do what makes for the funnier story...

Eva flinched a little, but then to my shock, she grinned. Not just a normal grin. She was putting in the effort to look like she was considering it. Then she looked me up and down like she was appraising me.

"I thought you'd never ask," she responded, somewhat flirtatiously.

I must say, I didn't expect that. But it was a welcome delight.

"I'll meet you right out here at eleven tonight then," I said and started back for my security car, wondering how the hell I just did that. I'm pretty reckless, but I've never been

that

reckless.

"Bye," she sang after me.

When I climbed back into the Ford Escape, Bentonridge's jaw was hanging open. The windows had been cracked and he'd heard the whole exchange.

When he got over his initial surprise, he sort of laughed. "How the hell did you—"

"I have no idea," I responded quickly. "But you see what I just did there, new guy? Don't do that. And if you do, you didn't learn it from me."

***

Well it turns out that I didn't get called into HR.

The shift was a relatively uneventful one, thank god. The hours certainly dragged. I was eager to get out of there. But I'll admit, a part of me still had my doubts. 'I'll believe it when I see it' is one of my mantras whenever someone tells me they'll do something.

And as the hours went on, our bold little exchange at the cars felt more and more like I dreamt it. Funny how time can make exciting abnormal moments feel so fuzzy in such a short time.

But Eva was kind enough to send me a few text messages. They weren't anything too racy, but there subtle pokes.

"Are you still on for this, or are you going to wimp out?"

She asked me once.

"Of course I'm still in. I'm stuck here until my shift ends. Where am I going to go?"

"Okay, but I don't want you sprinting to your car, and making some lame excuse that your grandma died."

By the time my shift did finally end, I damn near ran to the punch clock. When I stepped out into the night air, by the smoker's picnic table, sure as shit, she was there waiting.

"Get the fuck out of here," I said to myself, pleasantly surprised that she hadn't been blowing smoke up my ass.

Eva had changed out of her work clothes. She was wearing very tight hip-hugger jeans, a white shirt that, the more I looked, the more apparent that it was sheer. I could make out the outline of her bra beneath, and even see a few choice tattoos on her hip. She had a small black punk-style jacket on, but since it was a warm night, I suspected it was more to not appear nearly as slutty as that shirt alone would have made her out to be.

She gave me a big smile, and to my surprise, gave me a little twirl. It was for my benefit— she wanted to show herself off like I had just won her at auction.

When we started across the parking lot, I could already feel my cock waking up, and I was praying to god we could reach my car before I had a tremendous tent in my uniform pants.

I'm not opposed to car sex... but with my shift over, we were going to do this in either my car or hers. I picked mine... because to be honest, I still didn't fully trust the situation to not have a surprise twist. It came too easily This girl could have been a total psycho, or she could have had some guys in her car waiting to jump me, or she could have had a dick, or something. Paranoia can save lives. So if we used my car, I had better control over the situation.

Although, I discovered one minor flaw in my plan. I drove a Jeep Wrangler. And not one of those big four door ones with plenty of space. It was a two-door sport. This would be a tight fit.

I didn't really have a solid destination in mind. I sure as shit wasn't going to take a total stranger back to my place. Especially since we were leaving her car here, and going home would entail eventually having to drive her back here once we were done. To hell with that.

I just decided to wing it. Being a guard, I knew all the haunts around the property where we could get away with parking. We had a couple of auxiliary lots for big events— car giveaways, major sporting events, etc. They were overflow parking for visitors and staff. They were dark, they were secluded, and they weren't presently in use. It was the spring time, and at the moment, they housed huge piles of mulch that the groundskeepers would use to redo the flowerbeds. Giant mounds, two stories tall in some spots. I parked us among them.

No sooner had I killed the engine than Eva was peeling off her top. I give her credit, she didn't waste any time. I guess she was figuring the best way to make this less awkward was to just jump right in.

The moment her bra came off, I realized that I was in for a wild time. She had both nipples pierced. Okay, that explained why she was so into this random hookup— she was a total freak.

I hadn't even gotten started on my clothing yet before she was leaning over the center console and working to get my pants open.

I was barely even hard before I felt my manhood being tugged from my uniform, and that curly blonde hair of hers cascaded all over my lap. Then she was sucking me into her hungry mouth. It took only seconds before I was standing at attention— in a manner of speaking, with this hot little stranger sucking me off.

I admire her technique. There was a lot of head bobbing, like she was nodding her head, in between long deep sucks along my shaft.

She was very dedicated— climbing onto her knees in the passenger seat. Eventually she pulled her hands away from my cock, and used only her head, like she was bobbing for apples.

Showoff.

I ran my hand down her back, and took a feel of her ass. Jeans are such a headache for such things, in my opinion. But as I roamed around, I felt her wiggling her ass excitedly, trying to entice me further. She was like an over eager dog.