Touch 2

The other day I posted a little piece called “Touch.” It was fun to write. But, I’m a “Well, what happened next?” kind of fella.

Yet, I hate sequels.

So, clearly I was torn.

Then something popped into my head.


He had put a lot of people in the back of squad cars before. He’d done it for men, women and children of all shapes and sizes.

Some were easier than others.

She wasn’t particularly easy. He wasn’t sure why. It might have been the way she looked at him. Longingly? Pleadingly?


He had become a cop to make a difference. On days like today, he didn’t feel like he was.

But, his problems today were more than the female con and an overall sense of job dissatisfaction. He had something else on his mind.

Someone else on his mind.

Thankfully his shift was just ending.

He hopped into his Nissan Pathfinder and began navigating the streets of his town. Every 4 seconds he had to wave to someone. Small towns are like that.

He got to the bottom of the long, paved driveway. A smile formed on his face as he drove up. The garage door was open and he pulled right in.

As he opened the door between the garage and house, he saw her. (A different her.)


She was standing in a silk robe and holding two martinis. Somehow she had gotten more beautiful since he saw her last — a mere 24 hours earlier.

“Hi, officer. Hard day fighting crime?” she purred.

“Long day,” he whispered as he grabbed her and pulled her close.

They kissed.

It was one of those kisses where the colour of your surroundings begin to melt away.

He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He put his martini on the counter. She tried and missed. Broken glass, gin and vermouth flew everywhere.

They didn’t notice.

He carried her – mid-kiss – to the large dining room table. With his left hand, he swiped it clear of bric-a-brac.

He sat her down in the middle of the table. She greedily pulled him up with her. She pulled his shirt over his head without unbuttoning it and began opening his pants.

He loosened the belt on her robe and it fell open, revealing the tanned flesh that had consumed his thoughts all day.

He just stared at her body for a few moments. He was almost paralyzed by the thoughts of everything he wanted to do to her and with her. And then to her again.

He leaned in and kissed that spot on the side of her neck. You know the one.

She moaned and his knees went weak.

He softly rubbed his lips down her neck. Then his tongue a little. Goosebumps formed on her skin. He took his hand and gently ran it from her upper chest, down to her stomach.

Her back arched.

He slowly kissed from her stomach back up to her neck.

Then he began to shake.

She put her hands on his shoulders. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, it’s just…” He was embarassed.

“What is it, sweetie?”

“Desire…” he whispered.

“You are so fucking cute!” She grabbed him by the face and pulled him in for a passionate kiss.


Hours later they were collapsed in a heap on the table. They were almost melted into one another. She was just about asleep.

He was not.

He smiled.

“So, this is love,” he thought.

For the first time in his life, he really understood it.

He had always felt like it was completely horseshit when people told you, “Oh, you’ll know it when you find it.”

Now he got it.

He turned to stare at her. Messy hair. Flushed cheeks. His love was only growing.

She sensed his stare and opened her eyes.

“Hi, baby,” she whispered.

“Hi,” his voice almost cracked.

He stared some more.

He loved her with every ounce of his being. there was no denying it any longer, she was definitely ‘the one.’ He could not have been any happier.

Suddenly, her eyes opened wide.

“Shit! My husband is home.”

0 thoughts on “Touch 2

  1. Mmmmmm…now I know what I want for Christmas. No, not that. Well, ok, maybe that. But also some more smut-lite from Peter! It’s Desperate Housewives meets NYPD Blue for blogging. :)

  2. So great… bric-a-brac. BRIC-A-BRAC! I couldn’t just type it once. Too good.

    I wondered what the twist would be. I probably would have gone with a tranny, but I like your idea, too.

    If cats blushed, I certainly would have!

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