Spring Break usually means some extra off duty work and this year was no exception. I picked up an assignment at one of the local hotels for right after I got off my shift. Being one of the department’s motorcycle cops, I was wearing the traditional knee high riding boots along with all my normal uniform gear including the black leather basketweave gunbelt. I didn’t want to go to the house and change and get my car, so I just took the motor to hotel.
Extra duty during spring break is normally fairly simple. Keep the ruckus to a minimum and act as common sense for those who have lost theirs or never had it to begin with. I usually stroll between the floors, the pool and the beach area. Most of the kids are pretty cool and tonight was no different. You always have some clown that wants to hang on a balcony railing like Spiderman, and it never amazes me when they get mad because you think they should get down. I usually give them a routine that usually works. “Think I can I get your name and address so we will know who you are, cause we won’t be able to tell when you are a greasy spot on the ground below.”
Then there are the girls. Oh, yes. The girls. Young and shapely and full of life. And wearing bikinis that are so tight and revealing. I get a fair amount of teasing from them too, mostly good-natured. My favorite is, “If I call 911, will you cum?” they always ask with a giggle. If they only knew what I could do.
I’m sure they look at me and think I haven’t gotten it up in years. It’s not that I’m old, I’m only 40, but to an 18 year old girl I’m sure I look like an old geyser. To my advantage, I do stay in shape. At six foot one, I weigh 205. I hit the gym at least three times a week, and could and have run circles around younger guys. But still, I know it’s just a fantasy to think that some girl would want to “do” a guy like me. Especially a cop.
So I spend my time, chatting and walking, admonishing and walking, and looking and walking. I had made my way to the parking lot and wanted to check on my motor. I knew it was safe, otherwise I wouldn’t have brought it with me. It’s just that my Electra Glide is my baby. I could tell you all about it, but this is supposed to be a short story.
As I turn the corner I am surprised to see two young girls and one on the back of my baby. Now I have a hard time letting the shop mechanic on my motor, much less anyone else. Stay calm, I keep thinking.
“Excuse me Miss. Do you think you could get off my motorcycle please,” I ask trying to sound polite and not being too sure if it came out that way.
“Oh, gosh, I’m sorry Officer. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry” she babbled.
“Well I guess no harm done,” I comment checking to make sure there was no harm done.
“It’s a really nice bike. I love Harleys and this one is sweet,” she tells me.
I look at her again. Maybe 18 or 19. Nice figure, soft brown hair in a ponytail and of course the prerequisite bikini, yellow over what looked to be a very nice tan. Well I hope my Glide liked having this young thing sitting on her. I know I wouldn’t mind it.
“Officer, can I ask you a favor?” she looks at me with begging puppy dog eyes.
“What would that be sweetheart?”
“Could I sit on it, and then you start it. I love the way a Harley feels when it is running. My old boyfriend had one and I loved to ride on it,” she tells me like I care about her old boyfriend.
‘Yeah I guess so,” I answer wondering if it’s possible to be pussy whipped even if you ain’t got the pussy yet.
She climbs on and I put the key in and thumb the start button. The motor rumbles to life as the not quite factory pipes resonate through the night air. I blip the throttle a few times, watching the young girl’s face break into a big smile each time it rips up. After killing it, she climbs off my motorcycle.