My name is Katrina. This happened about 20 years ago while I still lived in Detroit.. I knew exactly what I was doing. Hell, I had plenty of self- confidence, and I had to. Right after college I got a job as a parole officer for the city. That was two years earlier, and at 24 I was still the youngest parole officer in my office. I was also the only Afro-American one. And the only woman.
At an even six feet, with a models figure, I already had experience dealing with some of the most street wise criminals around. They were constantly testing me, seeing what they could get away with. And because I almost always outsmarted them, I knew I was good. And it showed in my self-confidence. After all, how many young women could deal all day with murders, thieves, and my horny white middle-aged co-workers. They all had something in common. They tried to get into my pants. But I knew how to take care of myself.
It was part of my daily routine to go to the high school track by my apartment and run two miles. I did this at least six times a week. I usually ran at five in the morning. It was nice and cool then, and there wasn't ever anyone else around. Sometimes it was nice to be off guard.
Because it was summer, and because I was all alone, I didn't worry about what I was wearing. In fact it felt good to be able to wear whatever I damn well wanted to. Not like at work, where I had to hide my assets. My long hair wasn't pinned up, and I was wearing a sleeveless tee-shirt that was cut so that about 3 inches of my stomach was exposed. Because my tits were small then before having kids I didn't wear a bra. My running shorts were satin and one size too small, the same ones I wore in high school. You could almost see the bottom of my ass cheeks. My panties were called "French cut" which meant that they showed more than they covered. Running shoes and sweat socks finished off the outfit.
I finished the sixth lap, only two more to go. The track was hidden behind the lot where all the school buses were parked on one side and the school building on the other. It was a perfect morning, birds singing and sun just coming up. I was really into it. As I was running a unmarked police car came into sight, driving past the school bus lot. It drove straight to the track. My first thought was probably some more middle-aged white guys looking for a cheap peak. I kept running. They'd pretend to be on patrol, then after a few minutes of watching they'd drive off, probably for donuts.
As I rounded the track again I saw that two cops had gotten out of their squad and were now standing next to the track. One was what I expected, about 50, white, with a big belly. The other was different and caused me to do a double take. He was the same age as his partner, but huge, a real giant. Then I recognized the first cop, I had worked with him before. His name was Mike. It was obvious that they wanted to talk so I slowed to a walk as I approached them.
