C K Ralston

X-rated lady cop

CHAPTER ONE

Laurel Blakely was as excited about meeting Dean Kennedy at the Blue Goose bar as she ever had been about anything in her young life. There was something about the way the handsome, youthful vice squad officer looked at her that sent shivers up and down the gorgeous twenty-year-old's spine.

Parking her beat up Ford in the Goose's lot, Laurel turned on her overhead light momentarily and adjusted her make up. There wasn't much to do to a face as pretty as hers, Laurel thought with smug satisfaction. She made sure her eye shadow and liner were intact, smoothed out her lip-gloss, and tossed all of her long, strawberry blonde mane back over the shoulders of her uniform shirt.

Laurel polished her badge with her shirtsleeve, feeling very odd about it being pinned atop one of her large tits. The tight uniform, with its gaudy City Police patches and bold striping, really called attention to Laurel's well-formed ass, trim waist, and big breasts. She felt ridiculous wearing it, but it was a departmental rule that all dispatchers wear uniforms when on duty, even though the public was very unlikely to see them.

Finishing her make up inspection, the lovely redhead got out of the car and headed for the Goose's front door. She had never been to the place before, but she knew it was the best-liked cop hangout in town, from the way the guys were always talking about it. Like everything else about her new job at the department, going to the Blue Goose – really getting in with the guys socially – excited Laurel immensely.

The stunning police dispatcher pushed the main door open and peered into the blackness. The place was lit by a few beer display signs and the jukebox's glow. The music was country. The place was packed.

"Well, there's our pretty little squawk box queen now!" Dean Kennedy's voice rang out above the raucous laughter and music. "Over here, beautiful!"

Laurel smiled and followed the voice, gradually identifying the members of the vice squad at a back table, as her eyes grew more accustomed to the light. She made her way through the tables full of admiring, bantering men easily, trying to act more self assured than she felt.

"Get the kid a beer, someone!" a guy at the table yelled toward the bar.

"Ah, hell, she probably doesn't drink!" Dean kidded Laurel, smiling up at her.

"I do so!" Laurel responded quickly. "The legal age in this state is eighteen and I'm twenty! I've been drinking for two whole years now!"