“Sorry, baby. I was trying to do it as gently as I could,” he mumbled, his eyes on the area in question. The longer he stared at it, the darker and more pissed off they got. “I could shove his dick down his throat seeing this.”
Wrinkling my nose and then immediately stopping when it pulled on the area, I pointed out, “That means you’d be touching another man’s penis. You’d actually have the full shaft in your hand, which in a way is kind of like…”
It didn’t take much for him to shift the angle of his hand so that it covered my mouth, stopping me from saying anything else. “Fuck’s sake, woman. You’re bruised to hell and back, and you’re more concerned about me saying what men have said for years, and how it means I’d have another man’s dick in my hands?”
Shrugging, and realizing he had no intentions of moving his hand, I figured I’d talk, anyway. So, I started mumbling into the palm of his hand, and then decided to lick it to get him to move it. When he did, wiping it on my arm no less, I started again. “So, what you’re saying is that you hadn’t thought the threat through, right? I mean, if I say I’m going to punch a woman in the tit, I know my hand is going to hit it. Same with kicking her in the fud, I just need to make sure I’m not barefoot or wearing a pair of shoes that I like.”
“The fud?”
Grinning and ignoring the pain that came from it, I nodded. “It’s my favorite word for a vagina.”
Dropping down onto his back, he went to scrub his face with his hands but thought better about it when he lifted the hand I’d licked, meaning he only got to do it with the clean one. “I would love to understand the way your mind works,” he finally muttered, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t think it’s possible, though.”
“Probably not,” I hummed, not even slightly offended by what he’d said. It was true, I lived life focusing on the lighter things seeing as how I worked with the darker things almost every day.
Hooking an arm around my neck, he pulled me into his side, almost suffocating me with his armpit. Throwing out my own arm, I only just managed to avoid the collision, adjusting at the last second so that I had my cheek on his chest instead.
Unfortunately, it turned out I’d thrown my arm out a little too far, and had grabbed a handful of his cock and a little bit of balls. Did I move my hand? I think not. In my defense, that was initially down to not realizing what I’d grabbed, squeezing it slightly and thinking it was a thigh muscle or maybe even the comforter. Once I realized, though - and thanks in part to the low groan he gave as I squeezed and he shifted his hips - I still held on, tipping my head down to look at what my hand was doing. And that’s when my swollen eye opened slightly as my good eye widened when I saw the bulge I had a grip of.
“How the hell do you stay standing upright?” I gasped, moving my hand up and down and trying to get my fingers to meet around it. It was impossible, though. “Why doesn’t it stand out in your uniform?”
Choking out a laugh, he lowered his free hand to where mine was still moving and gently wrapped his fingers around mine, tightening slightly and making mine do the same thing. “I tuck to the left, and no I don’t have issues with balance, but thanks for the compliment, baby.”
A question I’d always wondered about came out of me next. “Why do y’all wear uniform now? DB wears jeans and a shirt, and y’all used to as well, but now you’re in uniform.”
“You really wanna ask that while you’re jacking my cock?” he rasped, the arm around my neck moving down my back toward my ass. When I hummed, moving as close to him as I could get and giving the arm that was now cupping one butt cheek more space to move, he answered the question. “The mayor keeps trying different shit. As a small town, they allowed us to be in jeans and shirts so long as we identified ourselves with our badges. Then he decided we would be in uniform and then changed his mind back. Six months ago, it was Kevlar on the outside, now it’s Kevlar under the uniform. DB refused to keep changing his shit, so he stays in jeans and a shirt, Kevlar on every call out or patrol on the outside.”
“What’s your preference?” I asked, eyes fixed on the nipple right in front of my face. Shifting my legs, I came up against his leg, and realized that he’d stripped down to his shorts to sleep – something which I had no complaints about, if I was honest.