BETH
I was summoned up to Superintendent Ploncke's office where I found my pal and fellow probationer, Gina, waiting outside the door. She and I had become friendly at the police academy, but not really very 'best' friends, and having both graduated somewhat closer to the bottom of our class than the top.
"What's going on?" I asked Gina.
"Don't know. My Sarge sent me up here to see the Super."
"Constable Fodero, is Constable Quimby there yet," our superior officer called through the closed door of her office.
"Yes Ma'am."
"Come in then."
She was a formidible woman of many years' experience in the Police Service; with a reputation for being absolutely straight, having strong moral values and demanding similar attributes from subordinates.
"Luigina and Elizabeth," she pointed to each of us in turn, correctly putting our names to our faces.
"Yes Ma'am," we answered.
"Okay, well I've got a job for you both, together as a team I mean," she explained before briefing us in detail as to what the task entailed. "You will use your initiative in solving any problems which might arise, without reference to me or any other member of the service."
In general terms we were to go to a coastal resort town during the summer vacation and mix with the college students and recent high school graduates to discover what occurred by way of any illegal behavior. We were to report only to her on an 'as required' basis and were not to identify ourselves as police unless it was unavoidable. We must become part of the scene there and must not hang back at the periphery of the crowd where one is actually more visible, she told us with the clear certainty of long experience in undercover work.
The possibility of us getting into any trouble due to moral turpitude was pretty well nil as my upbringing was strict enough, but Luigina's must have been even harder in a Catholic, Italian family. This relaxed me, although I began to wonder when we went to spend the clothing allowance provided by the Super. Gina bought us all manner of light, casual gear which I'd never have chosen to wear due to modesty, but in the context of our task, she was probably quite right. Of course we couldn't take anything with our names on them like most of mine did, so we finished up with bags of garments and left the opportunity-shop proprietor with a big smile on her face.
We set off for the coast on a lovely, sunny morning that promised a great day for those of us who enjoyed the beach. Looking back now makes me wonder whether I'd have gone off down there so happily with Gina if I'd been aware of what was in store for me. Probably not, although things turned out well enough for us both and we became a little more worldly due to our experiences. Anyway, we weren't volunteers, but following the orders of our superior officer which relieved us of responsibility for decisions we needed to make during the course of the operation.
We caught the train to the edge of suburbia and by 9am were hitch-hiking on the highway running north. A few minutes behind us we saw a teenage girl following along with her arm held out to signify that she sought a lift too. Barely forty metres before reaching us, a motorcyclist stopped to pick her up and she smiled happily on passing us. A bit later another two young women walked past us and obtained a lift only thirty metres further down and so, after another half-hour, decided that we must have had an image problem and found a little privacy in the roadside foliage to change. The successful hitchers wore only brief shorts or skirts and tops, so we removed our jeans and workshirts and got into something more revealing. I'd never been in a public place without a brassiere before and was feeling quite self-conscious in a short elastic-waisted skirt and halter top of light cotton.
Ironically, we quickly found a lift with a very aged couple on their way back to their farm and it was reassuring to find that they thought we were students on vacation, asking about our school and the kind of career we aspired to. A few kilometres before they dropped us off Gina indicated the side of the road where I saw the motorcycle, but no evidence of either the rider or the hitch-hiker he'd picked up.
We hitched for another fifteen minutes before an antique, erstwhile railway company coach shuddered to a halt ahead of us. The forward section had seven paired seats and the rear half was a freight van which had later been converted to a camper with fold-up bunks and surfboards in racks on the roof.
"Where're you going?" asked a teenage chick whom I immediately recognized as one of the hitchers I'd seen earlier and was now bare-breasted.
"The beach," Gina answered for us both.
"D'you play? Only players allowed on this bus," she giggled while a hairy male hand slid up her young body to squeeze one pale boob.
It occurred to me that we might just pick up some very useful information in that particular situation and perhaps even a social entree to the larger social group. Besides, there was safety in numbers here and the highway was pretty quiet that day.
"A ride for a ride, so to speak?" asked Gina, her hands on hips and I was unsure as to her meaning then.
"Right on," laughed the girl, "work your passage, as they say in the classics."
Gina obviously had a better grasp of their vernacular than I, so when she gave me an enquiring look to ascertain my thoughts, I merely gave a sort of 'why-not' shrug and she grinned wryly. Call me slow, but it was only then that the penny dropped. I was seriously glad that Ma'am Super wasn't there to see what we'd agreed to and hoped sincerely that she never found out how low we'd go for a quiet life, but it was in the line of duty.
"Okay," we chorused in a display of bravado that belied the gut-knotting ache of trepidation in my stomach. I would, I decided, be like those ladies of history who lay back quietly and thought of England as their fair bodies were ravished by hordes of evil foreigners. If worst came to worst, a quick poke in the course of my duty would hardly ruin my life, would it? The wide pneumatic doors in the middle of the vehicle hissed open to the darkened interior and our nostrils were assailed by the fragrance of cannabis smoke, mingled with warm bodies and beer.
"Thank God! Reinforcements," I heard a semi-hysterical girl gasp in the gloom.
"You're gorgeous," murmured a manly voice as an uninvited hand slid up my soft inner thigh to cover and press the damp crotch of my panties.
I was just about to remonstrate with him when I remembered the fare price I'd agreed to pay. As I found a place to stow my bag and back-pack my skirt was quickly dragged downward to my ankles and strong arms pulled me down to sit on something soft where my top was quickly unfastened and pulled off my then naked figure.
"Nice boobs too," he approved as his stubbly mouth found a swollen nipple and thrilled me by gently biting and sucking the shiny pink nub.
