Date: Thu, 21 Feb 2019 07:46:39 -0600 From: eric patrick Subject: "Fuck the Police" Fuck the Police. This story is fiction but influenced by real life environments and broad experiences. Any comparison is a happy coincidence. Please donate to nifty for all they do with the great content they post! If you enjoy this story, I do have several others to include: Der Boiler, Spring Break Cruise, Daytime in the Barracks, and Night time at the Armory, and An IDF Welcome. Of course you're encouraged to email me if you enjoyed particularly! Urbane69@gmail.com. Fuck the Police. I'm a Police Officer. I have been for 8 years now, and before that, I was in the Army. Between these two professions, I've had to learn a lot about myself. For starters, I know life is too short to say no to pleasure. You never know when it's your last opportunity to have fun in this life, and you never know how much fun it may be, even if it's intimidating and new to begin with. The second thing I've learned is to be good at either of these professions, you must keep yourself in phenomenal shape. Fitness saves lives. Filling out a uniform and especially having broad shoulders and a thick neck has deterred suspects from wanting to fight. So, long hours in the gym and a lot of self-care has kept me safe, and my fellow officers safe, for as long as I have adopted a fitness oriented lifestyle. I had been on the beat as a normal patrol cop for about two years since my previous assignment. I work in a suburb in the Pacific Northwest and though not crazy like L.A or New York, we get some weird shit that happens, especially around the full moon. The full moon always brings the crazies out. And so, it was with the approach of the full moon and a local music festival the same night that my Lieutenant called me into his office after muster. The Lieutenant, LT got right down to business: "The Chief wants you to represent our department at the local crossfit Olympics. It'll be up in Seattle in two months. All expenses paid, and we'll give you time to train on shift. The chief wants a more robust attendance with other PDs and partner agencies. How does that sound, Jones?" All I could do was grin and say I was more than eager to represent the department well. I love competition and having time to train, and a goal to train for is a big bonus. "Awesome. You're the fittest guy here, so don't fuck that up now. Another thing though: in the spirit of playing nice with other agencies, you're going to help the Sheriff's Department get their deputy ready for the Olympics too." He saw my expression change at the idea of helping a rival competitor and the LT quickly added: "Don't worry, she's competing in the women's Olympics. Their field is much smaller of course, reflective of how many girls we get in Law Enforcement. She's going to be solid, already a bad ass." "Uhh, sir, I train alone most of the time and do my own thing. It works for me; helping somebody else along will fuck up my usual training, let alone training extra for this!" I protested but it was of no use. The Chief already knew what my complaints would be (we're not that large of a department, after all) and so he had already gotten us memberships at the local globo-gym so we could train together there and not in my garage. My complaints squashed mid-sentence, I was sent on my way with directions to leave my patrol an hour early to meet the deputy and arrange training times. That afternoon I got a text from a local number: "This is Nicole, S.O. We're training together, want to meet at the station or gym?" "GYM, 5:00p.m? is the Sheriff giving you time to train on shift" "Our bosses told us whatever we need to do, so 5:00 sounds good, see you there". I closed my two small cases quickly; a loitering call and a consensual encounter with a man somebody had said didn't belong in a neighborhood and I drove back to the station, submitted my reports and changed into my gym clothes. It was a short drive over to the gym and I introduced myself at the counter to get my pass. The employee was a cute girl, college aged wearing a tight polo shirt and yoga pants. She was bubbly and probably that's how she landed at the front counter. I had never belongs to a civilian gym and had only worked out in military gyms, station gyms and my garage. I asked for the quick tour to see what amenities the gym offered. I was more than please to have access to both a wet and a dry sauna, and for extra cost a massage appointment. I planned to take full advantage while it was on the department's dime. The tour complete, I still had a few minutes to spare and so I flopped down in a chair near a little juice bar, watching the front door for my new training partner, a deputy named Nicole. At precisely 5:00, a woman walked in. From a trained observer's perspective, the newcomer was approximately 5' 4" tall, 125-130lbs in weight, dirty blond hair pulled back but probably past her shoulders in length. Clear complexion and tanned. Very trimmed and fit wearing a crop top sweatshirt and yoga pants; green over gray. That's how a report would read at least. In the words of a normal 32 year old man, she would be described as: "fucking sexy". Nicole's baggier but short sweatshirt covered her tits, but below revealed a toned and tight waist. Her quads and glutes were large and obviously powerfully strong. As she reached over to get her new gym pass I saw the bottom edge of a sleeve tattoo poking from her sweatshirt. The whole time she had a slight smile and bright eyes; the type of naturally falling expression showing an entertained mischievousness. Again: fucking hot" The bubbly employee pointed her over to me and I stood up to introduce myself. Nicole walked up and dropped her gym bag and gave me a firm handshake. The confidence she showed immediately belied a strong officer presence at work. She's a good LEO, I then knew. "Great to meet you, Eric. I wasn't too sure how I'd like having a training partner for this, I usually do my own thing, too" She told me. Nicole told me she had asked around the office about me and the deputies who knew me had sung my praises to her, which now knowing how well she looked, I'm grateful for their words. She had said she was apprehensive about having to train with somebody for the first time, and we both agreed that we didn't want to be slowed down by somebody who had never trained hard before. By the time we got started, we were both really encouraged by each other and how it could work out. We agreed that I would help Nicole on more strong man oriented moves, and she would help me on more untraditional high intensity training circuits. By the time we began lifting, we were already friends oriented towards a goal. The lift lasted 90 minutes and we each sweated through it. I made an effort to not check out Nicole's body too much, at least not yet, but I couldn't help but admire and compliment how toned she was; she'd wipe the sweat from her face with the front of her sweatshirt revealing a toned and tanned six pack of abs with a little belly button ring. I was sweating more than usual, used to not wearing a shirt at all in the privacy of my gym and so with the same sweat wiping she admired my abs in return, an eight pack minus the belly button ring. The lift over, we each sat on some mats set next to a wall of mirrors. We began talking more casually again now that the serious business was over for the day. Casual stuff about food and work and what drew us to the profession. She eventually took off her sweat soaked shirt while she finished stretching. Her arms were toned, traps, lats, everything was built and toned but still maintained an unmistakable femininity. Below her black sports bra were two modestly sized but perfectly shaped implants; a body as toned as hers would have forgotten about having tits at all, and through the fabric in the split second I allowed myself to look were the outlines of two nipple studs. I took a pause between stretches and asked about her tattoo. Nicole made a show of looking at it, and summed it up by saying it was a lot of symbols of what's important to her in life. "Plus some general badassery included" she smiled. I leaned in to get a closer look at the work done. It was a myriad of images, including a badge, a globe and anchor, and in American tradition style, an exposed pin-up looking like she was from a sailor jerry's bottle. Huge exposed tits hugged up by her arms and her head thrown back in ecstasy. I pointed and said that that one was my favorite. Nicole smirked "every boy likes that one; most girls don't" She gave me a smoldering look, almost as if a dare to ask another question, then burst laughing and threw her head back. I hiked my own shorts up a little to show Nicole the beginnings of the tattoos over my thighs. "All my work done is pretty well hidden here; we all have to have secrets, right?" I said. "Besides, I think I'd lose some points at the station if they knew I had the word `Daddy' tattooed on my ass". I joked. Nicole locked eyes with me in her stretch and said "If you have `daddy' tattooed on your ass, you better have the words `Good boy' tattooed on the other cheek, Eric" I couldn't tell if I was blushing or not over what she said, so I winked at her in response to keep up. Nicole stood up, her stretching complete. I was standing up myself when she put her hand on my shoulder to keep me seated. Saying goodbye, Nicole leaned in close to my ear "Keep up the work here, and you may need "Mommy' tattooed on that ass of yours, not `daddy'. I was immediately hard in my shorts as I watched her walked away, looking over her shoulder saying, "Tomorrow at 5!"