All characters are adults.
*****
The first time I collided with Janet Douglas I was in my car parked in a space beside the Come & Go store, with a cup of coffee and a Crispy Cream Donut for supper. Janet strolled over, leaned on the door, and kinda stuck her head and tits in the window. I put down the file I was reading.
"Gotta light?" She asked. It was eleven o'clock, eighty degrees and muggy, and a rock band was raising hell across the highway at a popular bar. I guessed Janet had been at the bar.
I don't smoke but carry lighters in the car for those that do. I handed her a lighter.
"Thanks," she said, lit her cigarette, exhaled, and added," You want some company?"
"Get in," I replied.
"Mind if I smoke?" She asked.
"Go ahead," I said.
"So many people got a problem with it anymore," she said. "You don't smoke?"
"I quit," I replied.
"Any problems stopping?"
"Not after the first five years."
She giggled.
"I need to get me some of that stuff they sell on teevee. What did you use?"
"Nuthin," I said.
"I'm Janet." She wore a wedding band .
"I'm Cole," I said.
"You gotta job?"
"I'm a cop," I replied.
"Oh! Maybe I picked the wrong guy for a new friend! I don't need no cop trouble."
"Relax," I said.
"I don't want no trouble."
"What do you want, and how much do you want?" I asked.
"I normally get a hundred," she replied. "It's something I do on the side."
"You live in the trailer park behind the store?" It was a better park than the shit holes the welfare queens called home. The trailers were newer, all had late model cars, and all had teeth. I handed her two fifties.
"Uh huh, can you wait a minute while I get some cigarettes?"
"Sure," I replied.
Janet had teeth. Nice teeth. She was a wholesome looking matron and looked like a mom, soft and full-figured, but dressed in a short skirt and a tight top with buttons. Older than me by ten years or so. Alcoholic and bored. The bar was handy for a bus rider forced to walk at night, but the bar crowd wasn't the team she played for. She looked like a school clerk.
She was back beside me in no time.
"If you want something to drink you need to stop at the ABC."
The ABC was a chain liquor store up the street from the Come & Go. I went there first. I bought her bottles of vodka, gin, and rum. I took her home.
Home was a newer single-wide trailer in good condition, clean, and furnished well. Her son, Scott Jr, lived with her. Scott Junior was in jail at the moment, as was his daddy, Scott Senior. Janet was the principal of Riverhills Middle School. Scott Senior worker there, too, before he got arrested and sent to prison. Janet went to the bathroom to pee as soon as she hid her purse and unbagged the booze. I parked my ass on the sofa.
Janet returned dressed in a baby doll nightie. Its top was lacy and sheer enough to see her dark nipples clearly.
"Want a drink?" She asked.
"Rum and Coke," I replied. She went to the kitchen. Her's was gin and tonic.
"You sure I'm not going to jail for this?"
"I'll put the cuffs on you if you want."
"Really?"
"Sure."
Females are all about feeling secure. They're either in control or outta control, and outta control often works quicker to make them feel secure. I put the cuffs on her. She then straddled me, draped her cuffed hands around my neck, pressed her body against me, and wanted to smooch. I cupped her ass cheeks and pulled her closer.
Then I carried her to the bedroom, tossed her onto the bed, got undressed, stretched out on my back, and guided her cunt to my face as she took my cock into her mouth. She acted like she was starved for cock. I finger-fucked her till she was ready for some cock between her legs. I guided her aboard and she braced herself gripping the top of the headboard with her fingers. She was drunk and snoring when I left at 3am.
I stopped by the Come & Go for coffee and a fresh donut. I then sat outside to devour both. A car pulled up and two niggers went in the store. They wore long coats. Before they came out I pulled my car close to the pay phone on the lot corner, and let the engine idle. When they came out and left I followed them.
They robbed the store according to my radio. I was there. Hadda be them. I followed them twenty-five miles to the interstate where they stopped at the rest stop to piss. Nothing to rob here.. They went in the restroom, I followed. I went inside a stall behind them, waited for the tinkling, then opened the door and popped them. I put both in the same stall, one on the throne, one on his knees, and left. I kept their money. It wasn't a lot. Not enough to die for, but enough for some pussy. I left and drove home.
I saved the county a ton of fuggin money. What I saved was enough to educate a classroom fulla rug-rats. Most of these shitbirds get tagged thirty, forty times before they do any hard time. Plenty use jail to fix their teeth and sexuality while the bleeding heart pols fuck the working stiff. Plenty of lawyers would never smile again when my wares were found, I had robbed them of millions. Ditto all the MDs treating faggots; AIDS virtually vanished from this county after the police department hired me.
After I awoke and went to work, I needed to close one of my investigations I was never gonna solve in a million fuggin years. I don't send anything to the cold case file. I close it however I can. The easiest way to do it is to set up your piece of shit for some attention from a jealous husband.
Geronimo Jackson was one of these assholes. Geronimo had like forty-two convictions for lotsa work, mostly drug busts and aggravated assaults and batteries. Mostly against his baby mommas and homies. He was at the top of my list for a drive-by killing in the slum. I bided my time for an opportunity. Geronimo never stayed in jail long. Then one day opportunity knocked.
I saw Geronimo with a cute redhead named 'Marilyn.' Marilyn's old man was a union iron worker, and outta town a lot making Marilyn plenty of money. Frankie Banaszek was the biggest white man God ever made. Sitting on his ass in a chair he was taller than most people, and I never seen a nigger to match Frankie. People called him 'Frankie Bananas.' Marilyn was about half Frankie's size. Apparently she needed some action weeknights when Frankie wasn't around.
So I kept tabs on Marilyn, got a good idea when she fucked Geronimo, and sent Frankie a note via his local union hall. The note had all the necessary info Frankie needed. Frankie came home, caught Geronimo and Marilyn together, and Geronimo looked like the jigsaw puzzle, of the old song, minus a couple of essential pieces, when Frankie was done with the man.
Geronimo loitered in life for a few days, departed for a better place, and I closed my case and put Marilyn on my list of gals to fuck.
Sometimes I just make shit up about my people, talk the shit to Godzilla, and let Godzilla surprise them. Godzilla don't know who's fucking his old lady, me neither, but I hang it on Chuckie Chump if he won't make a deal with us. I don't threaten anyone for their cooperation. Once or twice I was the guy fucking Mrs. Godzilla.
Strange shit happens. A while back a guy I work with, Brad, got tagged to go to Afghanistan with his National Guard unit. He was an MP, military police sergeant. So he catches me one day, to talk. What the fuck. I know him but not intimately. He tells me he's going off to the war for several months and wants a favor.
"What?" I ask.
"I want you to date my wife while I'm gone," he says. "Take her out to dinner and dancing and whatever. Do whatever she wants."
"Lemme think about it," I replied.
Brad didn't know I fucked his wife, Dolly. She was a waitress at the diner where I caught most of my meals.
I stopped at the Night Owl Diner for supper. The server was a gal named 'Dolly.'
"The usual?" She asked. She meant sliced roast beef on white bread, with gravy, mashed potatoes, green beans, and a Hawaiian roll.
"Sure," I replied.
