Special Agent Gattuso and I hadn’t seen each other in fifteen whole days; we both decided waiting five more until the upcoming Monday was just far too much for us to bear.
The two of us had to work on Wednesday, August 11, 2010, so we opted to meet for a short spell around the break of dawn that morning -- early enough for me to make it to my job on schedule, and he to his within a reasonable hour, afterward.
As we were both familiar with the lay of its land, and it was basically equidistant for us, we chose Crewe, Va, again, for our date. Relinquishing our tradition of meeting in the shopping plaza lot there then going to the convenience store for what-nots, we planned to rendezvous right at the Valero gas station.
My sedan rolled onto the pavement at the arranged point with the dark of night still dominating the sky. My wheels came to rest in a spot directly in front of the establishment. Tony’s unmarked State Police SUV was sitting in its own square at the side of the building to the left of me. Since he didn’t bolt right out -- his standard practice -- I sent him a text: ? He replied, letting me know he was in the restroom and would be with me momentarily.
When he swaggered out through the doors in his navy-blue polo, jeans, and cowboy boots, my face lit with a smile. Such a tall, beautiful guy! I exited my auto and we clenched on the sidewalk. Upon our disencumbering, Tony gestured in the direction of his ride and told me to relocate mine to the same expanse where it would be less in the public view. I tried to comply; only, the operator of a beat-up Oldsmobile had not parked as nicely as Tony between the white lines. With no chance of smooshing my Toyota in beside my darling’s Expedition, I backed into another space up against the building.
I crossed the concrete on foot to where the sexy officer was standing waiting for me. We held hands and shot the breeze for a couple of minutes then we climbed into the back seat of his Ford.
Tony had brought me a few items he’d gotten from the Law Enforcement conference he recently attended: a cup with the at&t logo, a pencil, a small multi-colored light projector, an electronic die, a T Mobile key ring advising “DON’T TXT N DRIVE,” and a Styrofoam puzzle with advertisements on it.
Nothing fancy, but he thought I’d like them. I did indeed -- mainly for their sentimental worth.
We played with the flashy red cube while we discussed the seminar and other cop-related topics. Occasionally there were pauses for kisses and touches. I loved running my fingernails on his bare arms and feeling the muscles in his legs tighten as my hands squeezed his thighs and calves.
I could leave absolutely no later than 8AM. It was already shortly going on 6AM.
Playing led to petting. Petting led to wink, wink.
This was the second occasion we had full-on intercourse. Even though his vehicle is quite large, our movements were undeniably restricted. His being situated with his knees pushed into the backs of the driver and passenger seat and me positioned astride facing him gave him almost no lower-body motility. I didn’t mind the close quarters at all. Nor did I care that Tony hadn’t bothered to start the AC. I watched three droplets of sweat fall from me one by one onto his untucked shirt. To this day, whenever I shut my eyes, I can still envision the abstract triangular pattern they made there.
We didn’t separate until nearly 8:30AM. I booked it back to Bedford in record time, high on the romantic remnants of riding my State Policeman while the sun rose.