Note: I had intended all along for this story to be multipart, but it was my first post and I didn't divide the parts up very nicely. So here is the second part.
"I guess your mouth is bigger than you stomach," Cordova chuckled, and she returned his smile shyly.
Michelle was embarrassed to look Cordova in the face. She feared that she looked like a woman who had just given a blow job, that some evidence might show on her face that she was unaware of, or that he would think less of her for having performed such an act on him. And yet she found the whole experience naughty, taboo, sexy. It made her feel oddly feminine to have performed the act for the man she loved. She hoped he had enjoyed it as much as she had.
Cordova lounged in his seat, his head thrown back, breathing heavily. His penis looked small, insignificant, barely poking out of his fly. Glossy droplets of his semen coated the surface of his pants around his shrunken cock.
"Clean me up, babe," he murmured.
Michelle dutifully searched her purse for some tissue paper and dabbed at the stains on his pants. The semen was tenacious and refused to be removed, leaving shiny wet stains on the wool of his trousers. "Try licking it," he suggested lazily.
She hesitated, then brought her tongue to the stains, adding her saliva to her cleaning efforts. She had to purse her lips and suck the material to remove the gooey fluid from the material.
As they returned to the urban area of the city Michelle offered to make breakfast for the sergeant after his shift ended. Cordova seemed reluctant, for some reason, but finally agree to meet Michelle at her apartment. She prepared him a heaping plate of chorizo and eggs, with hot buttered flour tortillas. The spent the remaining morning hours tossing in bed.
"What do you think of Sergeant Jesus Cordova, Jane?" Michelle asked a fellow dispatcher at work.
"Jesus? He's quite the ladies' man, from all accounts," Jane Gooding yawned.
"What do you mean?" Michelle asked nervously, feeling a lump growing in her throat.
"Oh, just that he's slept with a lot of the girls in the department, and who-knows how many on the outside."
"That can't be true," Michelle sputtered.
Jane regarded her diminutive coworker for a moment. She was aware she was treading on dangerous ground, given the wide-eyed look on the young woman's face.
"Oh, you know, rumors, gossip. That sort of thing."
"What have you heard," Michelle demanded in a soft voice.
"I'm sure it's nothing. You know how this place is—once a story gets started it just grows and grows. Probably nothing to it, I am sure."
"What are the rumors?"
Jane sighed in resignation. She felt protective of the naïve young dispatcher, who was just older than her own daughter.
"It has been said that he slept with Higgins, Vasquez, Wade, Riggins... let's see... Clarkson, Ojeada, Ramirez.... Oh yes, and that new girl in the evidence room—what's her name?—and Vaca and Bennent..." Jane recited the names of various female employees of the department, both sworn and unsworn.
Michelle's jaw was hanging slack. The pain in her chest made it difficult for her to breathe.
"But you know how it goes... those are just rumors, y'know?"
Michelle's face was purple with rage and embarrassment and she spun in her chair to face away from Jane. "I guess he's a rouge, then," she murmured, as much to herself as to Jane.
Jane had worked at the department long enough to know what had happened. Cordova had been with Michelle, and the woman's inexperience and the brevity of her time on the job had left her unprepared for a prowling satyr the likes of Cordova. God knows what he had told Michelle, what stories or promises he had made to woo the winsome and unworldly girl. Jane forced a change in subject, "You'd better check on the status of unit four-oh-three, Michelle."
Michelle keyed her microphone but nothing came forth from her trembling lips. Jane then broadcast for an update from the patrol unit.
Michelle sat alone in her darkened apartment trying to sort of what she had been told by Jane. So many rumors, so many women. Some of it just had to be true. Was
she
just a notch on his belt? Would her name now be included in the long and incomplete list of his sexual conquests? Were people even now smirking behind her back when she passed them in the department hallways? Was Cordova bragging to his buddies in the locker room about how she moved in bed, what her face looked like during sex, what things she said in the heat of passion? She shuddered with the thought. She was angry with Cordova, but wanting desperately for him to call her, to hear his voice. In her mind she played a scenario where the phone, sitting next to her on the couch, rang, and she let would let it ring five times before answering it cheerfully. But her phone was depressingly silent the whole night.
There must be some explanation, she reasoned. If even half the stories were true then maybe it was not Cordova's fault. She knew that some of the women in the department had a reputation for being 'loose' with their morals, and had slept with any number of the officers. Maybe Cordova was more victim than aggressor. Maybe
he
was the one who had been used, not the women. He obviously wanted to be in a long term relationship, wanted to settle down and get married and start a family. Perhaps those sluts had acted interested in the same things in order to seduce him. That must be the answer. Cordova was too sweet and caring, too gentle to be the womanizer he had been made out to be. Still, Michelle would confront him about the rumors the next opportunity. Now, if he would just call...
Michelle returned to work the next night in a deep funk. Her ever-present smile was missing, and she hung her head and avoided eye contact with her coworkers. Her cheeks and ears burned in embarrassment still. She sat silently in the dispatch room, answering calls mechanically in a flat tone.
"Heya, babe. How are you?"
She heard Cordova's voice behind her and spun about in her chair in eager anticipation. "Hi, Jesus," she beamed. One look at his face and she instinctively knew all the rumors were lies.
"When you get off at two, you want to ride with me awhile?"
Michelle's eagerness caused her to blush. "Yes! That would be nice!"
Cordova attempted to engage Michelle in idle chit chat, but the young woman was strangely laconic. Half an hour into her ride-a-long she blurted, "Have you slept with a lot of woman, Jesus?"
