This particular stretch of days and nights was always way too long and way too busy, but Sergeant James Rudy didn't have to worry about that. He'd already pulled a double but far from being tired, he was actually a little wired. It was kind of a weird feeling, but this was normal for him. One shift always made him want to take a nap, but two just made him want to throw a girl into his bed and fuck her until the sheets turned crimson. He'd had a burger and a beer at a local bar, one of many in the long stretch of shops and businesses along the main drag of the downtown district. Not entirely ready to go home, now he was just cruising around in the squad car until he found something to do. The night was a bit warm and he had the windows open, the radio belting out John Lennon on Oldies 101.1, although he didn't have it very loud at the moment.
He pulled up to a stoplight under a railroad bridge and glanced up at the sign for the local mental health building. His eyes didn't linger long, and soon he was on his way again. There wasn't much going on tonight, he noticed as he patrolled the streets. He was technically off-duty but a cop's work was never done. The next light he pulled up to was red as well, so he stopped there and took a look around. There were a few cars parked in the lot nearby, but the lights in the building were dark and there was only one woman in the lot. She was a cute little thing, standing perhaps five-foot-six with decent hips and a rack he couldn't help noticing hidden in a tight little button-down. He never understood why women wore white when they had only dark-coloured bras to wear underneath, but this one was doing precisely that. Her neat little skirt was gray and colourless, nothing fancy to it at all, yet she was wearing tennis shoes - probably orthopedics or something, as they didn't seem to fit with the rest of the outfit.
When she turned around to unlock the door to her Prius, a little white number that looked yellow in the light from a streetlamp, he caught one hell of a look at her ass. That was all the inspiration he needed, and he pulled around the corner as soon as the light turned green. He pulled into the parking lot and stopped near her. The woman straightened up, clearly wondering why he was stopping. He noted her dirty blonde bun as he got out but it was too dark to see her eyes; she was tanned and toned, this one - perfect for what he wanted. He closed the door on his squad car, put his hand on his gun, and told her to get on her knees. She was startled by this, and James delighted privately in that. He had to repeat himself to get her to do it, forcing her to set her little black purse on the ground next to her in the process. She put her hands in the air, thought not very high.
"Cross your legs," he told her, "interlace your fingers on your head."
