NOTICE

This site comprises documentation of my contact and interaction with Virginia State Police Special Agent (Anthony) Tony Gattuso -- up until the agency he's employed by forbid him to see me. Posts are in chronological order; newest additions are on the last page.

Hot Time In Harrisonburg

On Monday, July 12, 2010, I had some visitin’ to do in Charlottesville, VA. Aside from a pre-arranged clandestine meeting with a JADE Task Force source, a policeman I am friends with, I was also hoping to have a powwow with a Virginia Sheriff.

I usually lug my laptop with me when I travel anywhere. To kill time waiting for my sexy C-ville cop buddy to show up, and hear from the other officer to set up a sit-down, I was uploading photographs from my camera to my portable computer when the Gmail about the Harrisonburg, VA, bank/bomb situation came in from my state policeman, S/A Gattuso.

Being impatient, and curious, I didn’t wait for Tony to respond to my inquiry about the precise site. I speed-dialed the number of a Virginia State Trooper who’d provided me heads-ups in the past; he, as always, answered on the first ring. He promised to get the scoop and call me right back. Within seconds he was cooing the necessary information in my ear over the phone. Wondering how far exactly I’d have to journey to get there, I used Google maps to pin-point the Wachovia Bank in question. I judged the distance reasonable; I just had decide if my making the trip would be worthwhile. In the interim, I let Tony know vie email I’d found out the location.

My battery dead on the ‘puter, Tony and I conversed ala text about my heading in the same direction as him. It didn’t take long for him to convince me to go.

I pulled from my parking space, stopped, jumped from behind the wheel, and, right where my car had been sitting off the beaten track, I wrote a large double digit in sidewalk chalk on the concrete. Soon as my CPD guy saw it, he’d realize I’d had to cancel our contact. He’d understand why.

I peeled out envisaging random State Police decked out in kickin’ uniforms and heavy gear and my very favorite Special Agent.

The weather was gloomy in the city when I arrived. Kind of put a damper on my potential picture-taking; I snapped plenty anyway.

Law Enforcement had set up a wide perimeter on the roads to keep cars out of the vicinity of the Wachovia, yet I could see there were at least a half dozen clueless citizens walking about. I parked and hit the pavement on foot.

When it started to drizzle, I ducked into a gas station and requested the attendant let me take shots of the outside activity through the window behind the cash register. She nodded. I still wasn’t close enough to the actual bank to be satisfied. I waved bye to the lady in the store and set out weaving through side streets until I was in a more copacetic position.

The impending storm was darkening the sky. Unwilling to get stuck in a downpour so far from my vehicle, I wound my way back to where I’d left it. Soon as I pushed the key in the lock, Tony messaged me asking where I was. A couple of minutes later, an SUV looped in beside me. It was the first instance I’d ever seen the golden-colored Ford Expedition with the heavily tinted windows issued to Tony by the Virginia State Police for work.

When he got out of his ride, I invited him to join me in mine and, as the rain beat down, we discussed the goings-on and agreed how great it was to be together again. After a few stints of touching and tonguing, we had the glass around us fogged up pretty well. I wouldn’t permit him to get more personal with me but I indeed wanted more of him. My four-door was none too roomy for such and, besides, with perfectly transparent panes, it didn’t seem wise to go further in it.

Solution? We moved to his transportation. He opened the operator’s door and we climbed inside. I leaned tightly atop him on the driver’s side at the left of his body until he could shut us in. It was pure amazing being so close to him.

We made out like lusty kids. The way we were situated though gave us even less space for movement than my sedan had. Tony kindly cleared out the back seat for us.

Much comfier, plus shielded from passers-by, we gave in to our pent-up passion. I raised his shirt up to his chest, unbuttoned his jeans, licked along his belly below his navel, then glanced up at him to gauge his reaction. He stared into my eyes. This time he clearly wasn’t going to refuse what I was offering. He wiggled his pants and underwear down -- duty gun still in the holster loosely attached to his beltLink. I removed the gum I’d been chewing, seeking an appropriate spot to set it. Tony ended up taking it from me and, I imagine without much thought, held it between his fingers the whole time I performed oral sex on him. I flipped when he kissed me open-mouthed immediately after he’d ejaculated.

We’d be doing a hell of a lot more than that in the same SUV. But those were on future days. Stories for another time…

[Email exchange about the day here.]