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A morning jerk-off had become a necessary part of Andy Flynn's daily routine.
It had been years since he woke up hard this often -- nearly every day -- and if he didn't tear one off before he got to the office, he risked an immediate, insistent hard-on as soon as she got there.
Goddamn Sharon Raydor had his balls in a jar on her desk and she didn't even know it.
Soap, water, and the hard grip of his hand created a light suction around his cock as he beat off beneath the hot spray of the shower. Andy closed his eyes and imagined her on her knees in front of him, taking him deep and sucking hard. Damn near sucking his balls straight up and out his dick.
He slowed his pace. His imagination was treating him well today and he wanted to enjoy it.
He wondered if Sharon liked cock as much as he liked to imagine she did. It was hard to tell with the ballbusters like her. Sometimes they were tigers in the sack and sometimes they'd just as soon cut your junk off and toss it in their freezer.
He'd assumed the latter until the kid showed up and she got all mushy. Now he thought it was just as likely that she was one of those soothing, nurturing types, the kind of woman who blew you nice and slow and then rode you so you didn't have to exert yourself.
Andy wouldn't mind that. Sharon Raydor over him, her breasts bouncing right in front of his face, her legs squeezing his sides.
His cock twitched in his hand.
He was a legs man, always had been. When he saw a fine pair, he immediately imagined what they'd feel like around his head. Fuck if there was anything better than a pair of smooth thighs on either side of your face and a warm pussy in your mouth.
But he rarely let himself think about eating Sharon out. It was a surefire way to end his good time prematurely. He indulged his morning though, as he squeezed his dick and cupped his balls.
She probably left it natural, just the way he liked it. And he bet her lips were big and thick, the kind you could pull into your mouth and bury your tongue between. He imagined driving her wild against his face, making her come again and again until she pushed him away.
He'd climb up over her as she lay panting and senseless and then he'd give her the biggest, hardest cock she'd ever had.
Andy watched his come slide down the shower wall, swirl around the drain, and disappear.
* * *
Sharon stood in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom and slowly unbuttoned her shirt.
Her stockings, jacket, and skirt all lay at her feet where they'd fallen moments earlier, at the beginning of her solitary striptease.
In the year and a half since she'd been transferred to Major Crimes, she'd taken to wearing racier and racier undergarments on the job. She'd always been a woman who preferred high-quality lingerie over plain cotton briefs, but lately, her tastes had become more … risqué. Smooth, seamless panties had given way to scraps of lace, Brazilian cuts, and satin garters.
Sharon's shirt fell to the ground.
She turned her back to the mirror and looked over her shoulder at her reflection. The pumps still on her feet made her calves flex and hamstrings tighten. She reached back with both hands to squeeze her ass, easily visible through the fine, plum mesh of her panties.
She imagined it was his hands instead of her own, just as she'd been imagining that he was the one undressing her.
Andy Flynn shouldn't be the subject of her fantasies. It was unprofessional, unethical, and potentially dangerous to even contemplate being with him, but these past months, it was all she could think about. Every morning, she dressed for him, and every evening, she undressed for him too.
She turned to face herself in the mirror. Her nipples stood out, hard, their dark areolas evident beneath the matching mesh of her bra. She stroked them with the backs of her fingers; the touch shot directly, electric, to her groin.
Sharon kicked off her pumps and stepped closer to the mirror. She licked her lips and ran her fingers through her hair. Andy liked her hair, she knew. He'd told her so twice, awkwardly, both times in her office out of the earshot of the rest of the team. She might have mistaken it for flirting if she didn't know Andy preferred women half her age.
The thought dimmed her arousal. She felt silly. Here she was, putting on an imaginary show for an imaginary suitor, one who barely saw her as a woman at all, she suspected. Pathetic.
She stuffed her bra and panties deep into her hamper, pulled on some old sweats and a t-shirt, and went to bed.
Hours later, Sharon floated somewhere between sleep and awareness. She was hot; in lucidity, she pushed her covers back and kicked off her sweatpants before drifting back into her dream.
She was with Andy. They were alone in her office and he was touching her. He was gentle as he guided her back against her desk and lifted her skirt to stroke her over her panties. She was wet already, though they'd just started, and Andy took advantage, sliding long fingers into her without preamble. He explored her, caressed, taking nothing for himself even after she climaxed.
"I like to please you," he said, before nuzzling her brow and leaving her alone by her desk.
Sharon woke fully, her hand already between her clenching thighs. Her dream had been only mildly erotic, not at all the kind of vigorous tryst she imagined during her waking hours, but it had nevertheless left her wanting. She reached for the vibrator in the bottom drawer of her nightstand and finished herself quickly, forbidding herself thoughts of Andy as she did so.
* * *
"Don't you get carsick doing that?"
Andy stole a glance down at the open files in Sharon's lap. It was the only safe place to look, the rest of her was all tits, legs, and hair today. In the passenger seat of Andy's car, Sharon's skirt rode high up her thighs. The files covering her half-exposed lap were a blessing.
"No." Sharon highlighted another line in her file. She adjusted the glasses at the end of her nose.
Andy knew he should leave her alone to prepare her questions -- they were driving to Orange County today to interrogate a hospitalized witness -- but like the smitten juvenile he was, he couldn't stop himself from pestering her.
"Not much of a conversationalist today, are you?" he said.
Sharon closed the file in her lap and pulled her glasses from her face. "What would you like to talk about?"
Andy shrugged. "I don't know, anything. What did you do over the weekend?"
"On Saturday, I cleaned the condo and then caught up on some work. Sunday I went to yoga class and a movie."
Andy nodded. "Sounds nice. What movie?"
"The new George Clooney one."
"George Clooney, now there's a good-looking guy, huh?" Andy wasn't sure what he was fishing for, but he knew he could get into some trouble with this line of questioning.
"He is, yes. Very handsome."
Andy rambled on. "I like that he's not all muscled and macho. Just a regular guy. But smooth."
Sharon smirked. "I had no idea he was your type."
"Oh, very funny."
They fell silent for a minute as Andy concentrated through a dicey patch of traffic.
"So, uh, did your boyfriend take you to this movie?"
Sharon shifted. "You know very well that I'm married, Lieutenant Flynn."
"Yeah, and I know you're separated. Sometimes separated people have boyfriends." Andy was really toeing the line now.
"Well, I don't." Sharon put her glasses back on and opened her file again, clearly ending the conversation. Rather than feeling chastised, as he knew he should, a buoyant hope rose in his chest. He had no recollection of the rest of the drive.
* * *
Sharon and Andy had been forced to fit their questions in between sessions of bloodwork, physical therapy, and examinations. They didn't leave the hospital and begin the journey back to LA until late, just in time to catch the tail end of evening rush hour. As the drive dragged on, their car moving only incrementally from one standstill to the next, Sharon grew punchy with anxiety and hunger.
She felt trapped in the seat next to Andy; she had no files to distract her from the faint smell of his cologne and the view of his broad hands on the steering wheel. Try as she might to stay focused on benign thoughts, images and sensations bombarded her. Andy's hand leaving the wheel to rest on her thigh, Andy unzipping his fly and guiding her head down to his lap, Andy pulling off the road to drag her into the backseat…
Again, that small voice of self-loathing crept into her head. Why did she have a stupid, schoolgirl crush on a man who was primarily interested in teasing her? What had those questions about her weekend, about boyfriends, been about? He knew very well she didn't date and it was cruel of him to point it out. She assumed he was trying to bait her to ask about his weekend, which had probably been full of floozies.
"You okay? Too hot?" Andy asked.
"What?" Sharon wriggled in her seat and tried to smooth the wrinkles from her skirt.
"Just making sure you're comfortable." He fiddled with the thermostat knob.
If only.
When Andy dropped Sharon off at her condo nearly an hour later, she was practically hallucinating with hunger, annoyance, and lust. Fortunately, she managed to wish Andy a polite good evening before racing inside. She stripped out of her suit on her way to the kitchen and stood in her underwear in front of her fridge, devouring cold Chinese leftovers straight from the container.
She finished her day as she finished so many days lately, brooding and alone in her bed, legs pressed tightly together to dull the ache between them.
* * *
Andy never thought he'd see the day that Louie Provenza retired. His friend had earned eligibility for full retirement years ago, but due to lack of any better way to spend his time, he just kept coming to work, day after day, year after year.
But then he met someone. A widow fifteen years his junior had moved into a condo on the floor above Louie's -- and it was love at first sight.
"She's smart, beautiful, and funny, but the best part is, she doesn't want to marry me!" Laughter filled the banquet hall as over a hundred officers, past and present, raised their glasses to the outgoing Lieutenant and his new companion.
Andy knew he should stay and celebrate his friend, but he wasn't feeling festive. He was feeling old. And very much alone.
The courtyard through the glass doors of the hall was empty; the evening too warm (and the open bar too appealing) for anyone to want to linger outdoors. As Andy walked along the stone path circling a large fountain in the middle of the courtyard, he saw he was wrong, that there was indeed one other person outside.
Sharon Raydor sat on the rim of the large fountain, her glasses laid on top the suit jacket folded neatly at her side, her bare feet dipping in and out of the water below.
"Warm night, huh?" Andy said, approaching carefully.
"Mm-hm." Sharon swirled a foot in the water. She didn't look at him and she didn't say anything more.
Andy knew he should leave, but he couldn't. Not when she sat there looking so beautiful, collarbones bare above the wide boatneck of her sheath dress, her hair falling over one shoulder.
"Sharon, can I get you a drink? The lines are kind of long but it shouldn't take--"
"I hate these things, don't you?" Sharon's voice was low; Andy could barely hear her.
He sat down on the other side of Sharon's folded jacket. "Do I hate these things? Yeah, always."
Sharon glanced at Andy, then back down to the water. "Will you miss him?"
Andy rubbed the back of his neck. He was starting to sweat a little, though whether it was due to the heat or the proximity to Sharon's bare knees, he wasn't sure. "Yeah, I'll miss him. This is the end of the longest relationship I've ever had. He's happy though. That's a good thing."
Sharon drew a long, shuddering breath. Her hair had fallen in front of her face so Andy couldn't tell for sure, but it sounded like she might be crying.
"Are you okay, Sharon?" Andy felt awkward, like he needed to do something with his hands. He'd never seen her cry, though Louie had, so Andy knew it could happen.
Sharon tilted her face up to the night sky. The strings of lights hung around the courtyard cast a soft halo around her face. She wasn't crying, but her brow was furrowed as though she was in pain.
"I envy Louie. He has someone to go home to. I just realized tonight that I will never have that again. Never."
"Aw, come on. You don't know that."
"I'm 62, Andy. Men aren't exactly lining up for women my age. Plus I'm not easy to get along with. I guarantee that no one in my condo building is thinking about me right now."
Andy opened his mouth to protest, but she was already gathering her jacket and heels.
You idiot, this is your chance.
"Sharon!"
She paused.
"You're wrong." Andy cleared his throat. "There are plenty of guys out there who would be into you."
"Do you know the last date I was on, Andy?" Her voice trembled. "It was last year, when you took me to the Nutcracker. As a decoy to manipulate your family."
Andy jumped up. This was going horribly wrong. "I thought you had fun," he said.
Without her heels on, Sharon looked so small before him. Her expression was sad, empty. "I guess it just felt nice to be wanted. Even for that questionable purpose."
"Sharon, I--"
"Good night, Lieutenant," she said, disappearing barefoot into the darkness.
* * *
Back at her condo, Sharon hoped that a glass of wine and a gossip magazine would revive her. At first, the photos of beautiful, young starlets cavorting on the beach with their equally young partners only depressed her more, but as she thumbed through the articles on divorce, infidelity, addiction, and desperation, she realized she wouldn't go back to that age, that time, even if she could. Youth was uncertainty. Plenty of fear and very little control.
Despite her unhappiness at being alone, she was at a wonderful place in her life. At the top of her career, with children she loved and who loved her back, living in a beautiful home she'd made for herself in a city she adored.
And she had choices. For instance, she could choose to wallow in her current muck of self-pity, or she could pull herself up and out and get the hell over it.
She regretted taking her dark feelings out on Andy. Perhaps he couldn't fill the place in her life she wanted him to, but he was still an excellent coworker and friend, and she shouldn't take that for granted.
First thing in the morning, she'd call him to apologize.
She settled deeper into the cushions of her couch and kicked her pumps off to rest her feet on the coffee table. Her dress was surely wrinkling, but she didn't care. She took another deep drink from her glass and reached for the tv remote.
The intercom buzzed.
Strange -- it was far too late for package deliveries, and she hadn't ordered food. Sharon padded down the hall to the small white box next to her front door and pressed the button.
"Who is it?"
"It's Andy."
Oh no, she'd made him angry, or worried, and he was here either to fight back or to check up on her.
"Andy? What's going on?"
"Sharon, can I come up for a minute?"
Sharon panicked. She was far too exhausted to handle a confrontation, not tonight, but she didn't know what to say to ward him off.
"Sharon? Please let me up. I just have something quick to say."
Lacking a plan, she had no choice but to buzz him in.
Sharon rushed to put down her wine glass and look as though she hadn't just been lolling sloppily on her couch. Pull yourself together. She could do this. She could be Andy Flynn's friend without all this childish mooning and pouting. And she'd start dating. She didn't need to wait around for someone to ask her out -- she'd go online, on that website where Ricky met his girlfriend. Or was that only for young people? No matter, she'd figure it out. The important thing was that Andy was on his way upstairs right now and she owed him an apology.
She heard the ding of the elevator and opened her door before Andy had a chance to knock.
"Andy, I just want to say that I'm very sor--"
"I think about you, Sharon."
What? What the hell was he talking about?
"You...huh?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "You said no one thinks about you. But I do. All the time, actually. I just didn't want you to think that you were, like, undesirable, or whatever. You're very desirable."
A light flush emerged over the apples of Andy's cheeks.
Sharon was speechless. She could barely think, such was her shock. This was not the plan. This was not what she'd just pumped herself up to face.
Andy's eyes glittered. He closed the door behind him, then reached out to palm Sharon's hips and guide her back against the wall. "I think about you all day, every day. Sometimes I think I'll go crazy, I want you so much."
Sharon's head spun and she felt she might collapse, but for the smooth wall at her back and Andy's hands firm at her waist.
"Andy, I--"
But then he was kissing her, and all conscious thought left her head. Andy Flynn was kissing her, and well.
Breathe. Sharon turned her head, needing air, but fearful that Andy would take the movement as an indication to stop.
He didn't. He kissed her neck instead, pushing her hair aside to draw his lips up her throat to the spot beneath her ear that made her gasp. She could feel him grin against her neck at the sound, then growl as he dropped his hands to the back of her thighs to lift her up against the wall.
Sharon wrapped her arms around Andy's neck and found his mouth with her own.
Her dress was too tight, she was too hot, her skin prickled everywhere. Andy rolled his hips into hers and she moaned as she dug her fingers into his shoulders. He did it again, then again, until they were grinding against each other like desperate, clumsy teenagers.
Suddenly, Andy stopped. He put Sharon down and leaned over her, hands against the wall on either side of her head. He struggled to catch his breath.
"What is it?"
Andy took a step back, then another. Suddenly, Sharon was freezing. She crossed her arms over her stomach and hugged herself tight.
"I know you're feeling bad tonight and I don't want to be part of you doing something you'll regret."
"Regret?"
"Well, yeah. I don't want to take advantage of the situation." Andy stared at the floor.
"You're not taking advantage of anything." Sharon uncrossed her arms and took a cautious step closer to Andy.
He held up a hand to stop her approach. "Okay, but I also don't want…"
Under normal circumstances, Sharon would have been amused at seeing Andy Flynn so tongue-tied. Right now, though, she desperately needed him to be direct with her. She took his hand and squeezed.
The contact gave him courage. He looked up to meet Sharon's eyes. "I like you and I don't wanna do just a one-night thing because of the party. You know." He shrugged.
Oh. Oh oh oh oh.
"Andy."
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry about what I said back there. About the Nutcracker and everything else. You didn't deserve it."
"It's okay."
"No, no, I'm really sorry about it. I was upset because…"
Andy furrowed his brow, confused.
Sharon took his other hand in hers. "Because I think about you too."
"You do?"
Sharon nodded. She offered him a smile before echoing his earlier words. "All day, every day. I have been for a long time now. Sometimes I think I'll go crazy." She laughed. "Maybe I already have."
A weight lifted visibly from Andy's shoulders. His posture relaxed. At Sharon's confession, the old Andy Flynn swagger was back.
"Is that right, Captain?"
"Mm-hm." Sharon dropped Andy's hands to toy with the end of his tie.
"So, what kinda stuff do you think about?"
Sharon relaxed into the seduction, her despair back at the party thoroughly forgotten.
"Oh, I don't know. Sometimes I think about inviting you up here when you're dropping me off after work."
"Is that right?" Andy reached out to run his hands along Sharon's upper arms. She felt goosebumps rise under his touch. This was happening. A year of anticipation, longing, and heartache was behind her. Andy was here -- at the very moment she'd let him go, he had come to her.
And now she was going to take him to bed.
"Yeah." Sharon looked up through her lashes. Bold, she leaned in to brush her breasts against his chest. "I might think about showing you my bedroom."
"I've never seen your bedroom."
"Would you like to?"
Sharon led Andy down the short hallway, offering an exaggerated sway of her hips for his benefit. She turned on her bedside lamp and let him take in the space.
He looked around only briefly before turning his full attention back to her. "Nice," he said simply.
Sharon was prepared to excuse his compromised powers of speech. She sat down on the edge of her bed.
"So, what kinds of things do you think about?"
She'd never seen a man blush so hard before.
"Oh, you know, just normal stuff…" Andy trailed off and coughed, clearly terrified to share any of his fantasies.
"Come here."
Sharon beckoned Andy with a wave of her hand and once he was close enough, hooked her fingers beneath his belt to pull him in.
"Do you think about...this?" She cupped him over his suit pants, tracing the length of his rapidly developing erection until his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. Sharon continued the motion as she looked up at him. "Well?"
"Yeah," Andy sputtered. "Yeah, I've thought about that."
"I see. I wonder if you've thought about this too." Sharon slowly unbuckled Andy's belt, then unbuttoned and unzipped his fly. She pulled his cock from his boxers and took it deep into her mouth.
If Andy's groan was any indication, he had indeed contemplated this before. Sharon took up a steady rhythm of drawing him in and out, alternating between hard and soft sucking, and adding twists of her hands along his shaft.
She'd forgotten how much she enjoyed doing this for a man she cared about. She prepared to settle in and give Andy the blow job of his life, but suddenly, he pulled back.
"No good?" Sharon asked, wiping her bottom lip.
"Good. Very, very good. I just need a minute." Andy took a deep, slow breath. As his breathing steadied, he began undressing himself as Sharon watched. He soon stood naked before her.
"I hope it's okay for you," he said, gesturing down at his body. His grin was neither self-conscious nor arrogant, just happy.
Touched by his matter-of-factness, Sharon stood up from the edge of the bed and placed her hands on his round stomach. "It's lovely," she said. She kissed across his chest from one shoulder to the other before seeking out his mouth again. It was her turn to groan as he pushed his fingers up into her heavy hair to rub the back of her neck.
Andy's hands found the zipper at the back of Sharon's dress and made quick work of removing the garment and the slip underneath.
"Wow," he said, stepping back to ogle Sharon's breasts and the fiery red lace barely containing them, and the skimpy thong further down. "I have to say, that's a surprise. The underwear, I mean."
Sharon palmed her breasts, caressing the lace. "I haven't always worn this kind of thing. Only since I started working with you." She squeezed the swells together to create even more cleavage and winked vampily.
"You're something else." Andy growled and tossed Sharon back onto her bed. He settled quickly over her and set about kissing every inch of her skin, divesting her eventually of her lacy undergarments and dropping his head between her thighs.
Andy paused there, and Sharon propped herself up on her elbows to watch him.
Andy kissed the creases of her hips and traced the smooth curve of her low belly with his nose. He breathed deeply into the triangle of dove hair beneath. Sharon jumped at the tickle of moving air.
"Andy, don't play." She lifted her hips.
Andy closed his eyes and covered her with his open mouth. He continued to explore her, but with purpose. She relaxed back and rested her arms above her head, content to let him take his time.
Andy avoided her clit for a long while, dragging his tongue instead up and down her folds, blowing cool air onto them, nuzzling them, drawing them fully into his mouth. He pushed his tongue deep inside her and Sharon bucked and groaned, that particular sensation one she'd especially missed.
Finally Andy reached her clit, and in a few short minutes she was clutching the pillow behind her head and crying out her release. Andy penetrated her again with his tongue and she felt him smile against her as she rode out her final waves of pleasure against his face.
When she was able to fill her lungs with air again, Sharon said, "go on, Andy." She spread her knees wider in invitation.
Andy sat up and wiped his chin. He studied her, splayed out before him, for a long moment.
"Could we try a different way, maybe?"
Sharon sat up. The friction of her center sliding along the bedspread sensitized her all over again. The sight of Andy's cock, erect and eager, nearly drove her mad. She wanted it. Now.
"Yes. Just tell me. Hurry."
Obliging, Andy guided her to her knees and spun her so that she faced away from him, hands on top the headboard, her back flush against the front of his body. He reached around her, up along her stomach to squeeze her breasts. When Sharon's head fell back against his shoulder, Andy pushed her hair out of the way to bite and suck hard at the bend of her neck.
At the marking, Sharon ground back against him instinctively. Andy reached down to guide his cock to her opening. He slid in smoothly, fully, before resting his hands over hers on the headboard. Every atom in his body screamed at him to take her hard and fast, but he held on.
"Sharon?" he said.
She answered with a feral growl and a push back against him.
His teeth sunk into the tender skin at the back of her shoulder, but she failed to register the pain, so overwhelming was the onrush of steady, quick thrusts inside her. She gripped the top of the headboard in front of them and spread her knees wider. He pushed deeper into her and they moaned in unison.
Sharon's hands began to slip; she pulled Andy's arm around her and grasped his bicep where it crossed her chest. He braced a palm flat against the wall and held them steady as he pushed them both to the edge.
"Can you come?" Andy's voice was low and hoarse. His chest, sweat-dampened, slid against Sharon's back as they moved.
Sharon released his arm with one hand and reached down to where they were joined. She felt Andy groan into her neck when she held her fingers outside her opening to feel his cock moving in and out of her. She hummed as she touched her center, stroking herself in wide circles. The light touch was enough and she came, her grip white-knuckled on Andy's upper arm.
Andy roared with the strain of self-control as he pulled out of her and let her fall back onto the mattress. He gripped his cock and pumped a half dozen times before spurting hot onto Sharon's stomach.
They lay next to each other, exhausted, sweaty, and sticky. In the muted light from the bedside lamp, Sharon watched Andy's erection soften. She stroked it gently with the back of her fingers until it came to rest against Andy's thigh.
"It's going to need a break." Andy patted his penis affectionately. "Oh, wait a minute."
Andy reached to the nightstand for a handful of tissues to mop up the mess he'd made on Sharon's stomach.
"You didn't need to do that, you know," she said as she pointed him in the direction of her trash can.
Andy came back to bed and stretched out beside her, propped up on one elbow. He traced lazy figure-eights around her breasts.
"I didn't know if it would be too much, you know, if you were done and I kept going."
Sharon cupped Andy's cheek in her hand. "You're very thoughtful."
He turned his head to kiss her wrist. "Here's a thought: join me for a shower?"
They helped each other up from bed, joints creaking and taxed muscles protesting. Before leading Andy toward the shower, Sharon said, "is that what you'd imagined it would be?"
Andy shook his head. "Better. Much better. What about you?"
"Ehh…" Sharon pretended to equivocate.
"Very funny." He reached out to swat her ass.
As Sharon led him across the hall, she turned back to say, "you know, Andy, I've thought about a few things in the shower, too…"