The party was in full swing at 2 a.m.
The cops had been by twice in uniform, once at 10 to ask the partiers to turn the music down.
Roger agreed. He owned the place. In his sneakers, jeans and a Cincinnati Reds jersey, he crossed the room. He turned the volume lower as he watched the older officer’s face. When the man’s eyes went soft, he stopped. “That’s good?”
The officer nodded. “Yep, that ought’a do it.” Then he touched his fingers to the brim of his duty cap. “You folks have an enjoyable evening now.” He turned to the younger officer’s back. “You ready? Dave?”
But Dave was busy. He and Julie were talking quietly.
She shifted her leather sandals just enough to turn her tight pink shorts slightly to face Dave.
The muscles in her legs tensed, moved gently beneath her smooth, tanned skin.
Beneath her cut-off white peasant blouse, the lower few inches of her abdomen were already taut. But it still tensed a bit as she smiled and reached up to her forehead. She pinched a strand of hair between her thumb and index finger, moved it behind her ear. It fell back in place.
She canted her head slightly, assumed the age-old pose that indicated interest, feigned or otherwise.
The older officer had seen it all before. He shook his head and laughed, then tapped his partner on the shoulder.
Dave looked around, his eyebrows arched. “Hmm?”
“You ready to go, hotshot? There’s still an hour left on the shift.” He laughed again. “About enough time for the paperwork. Well, if we had any to do.”
Roger grinned, his brown mop of hair bopping to the music. Over the sound, he said, “Be careful what you wish for, man.” He’d known the older officer for awhile.
The second time it was only Dave. He tapped on the door more timidly than before, hoping he’d be welcome without the job.
Julie rushed to open it. She smiled. “Why Officer Dave, what brings you ‘round again?”
And Dave just laughed. By way of explanation, he hefted the bag he was carrying. “Hey Roger—Roger, right? You got a room where I can change?”
But Julie stepped in front of him. She ran one timid finger down his chest. She looked him in the eyes and whispered, “Babe, it don’t matter how you’re dressed.” She took a step back, then gestured with that finger toward his hip. Maybe. “Besides, I’m interested in seeing your big ol’ gun.” As she had practiced many times, she called color to her face and grinned. “I mean— well, you know what I mean.”
Roger said, “Jules, everybody knows what you mean.” He glanced at Dave. “But time for all that later. C’mon, Dave. I’ll show you.”
As Dave crossed the room, Roger grinned. “You might even escape with your morals intact. You cops got morals, right?” He gestured toward Julie with his chin. Quietly, he said, “But not if that one has her way.” He laughed.
He and Officer Dave went up the stairs.
Julie watched.
“Hey Jules.” It was Herman. In baggy grey trousers, black oxfords, a black belt and white shirt, he was doing some approximation of a dance with Ray and Melanie. Odd man out, as usual. He grinned with crooked teeth. “C’mon in, the music’s fine.”
Julie grinned and shrugged. “I guess,” she said, and wiggled her way across the floor to stop in front of Ray. Bermuda shorts, sneakers and a t-shirt weren’t as dorky as trousers and heavy shoes. “Hey Mel, let’s switch,” she said, just as if she knew Mel wouldn’t mind. She started dancing, syncing to Ray’s rhythm.
Melanie adjusted to the space, began moving with Herman the Dork.
She didn’t care. She just liked to dance. Her new jeans caressed every move of her hips.
Crystal stayed to one side, near the stairs. She’d catch Roger again on his way down.
* * *
Upstairs, Roger tapped on the first door with his fingernail and glanced at Dave. “This is the bathroom,” he said.
“Yes?” somebody said. A female voice.
Roger and Dave went on down the hall.
Roger stopped and grabbed the next door knob.
Behind them in the hall, the bathroom door opened. Jill came out. “All clear,” she said. “Oh, it’s only you.”
Roger grinned. “Thanks. Ray’s still downstairs.”
As Jill turned away, Roger looked at Dave. “You can change in here.” He turned the door knob, pushed the door open. “This is the guest bedr—”
At the bottom of the bed, sneakered feet protruded from the legs of a pair of jeans. The owner lay face down but he was balanced on his elbows. His upper arms disappeared into a red and yellow striped t-shirt. That was George.
A pair of sandals lay just inside the room as if kicked off in a hurry.
To either side of George was a bare knee, a shin, a foot, all moving rhythmically. Higher were a pair of arms outstretched to either side, the fingers curled into fists and knotted in the comforter.
Then both feet raised a bit, held and slammed down as she pushed hard against the comforter.
“Ohhh!” she said, and meant it.
And beneath George, protruding on either side just above the bottom of his shirt, was the pushed-up, gathered hem of a blue skirt.
Ah, that was Temperance, as if Roger hadn’t recognized the drawn-out, “Oh!” The blue skirt rocked with the same rhythm.
George kept going, focused on the task, even after she had gripped the comforter. Even after she had slammed her feet against the bed. Even after he was momentarily elevated.
Whew! You go, George! Then Roger remembered he was standing in the doorway. “Oh, sorry.”
But the couple didn’t seem to notice.
Still gripping the door knob, though more tightly than before, he backed away. He bumped into someone and looked around. Oh yes, Dave. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay.” Dave grinned. “Hey, this is quite a party. I don’t think they even knew we were there.”
Roger arched his eyebrows. “Well, would you?”
Dave laughed. “I hope not. So you got another room?”
Roger gestured toward the next door. “Just mine.” He grinned. “I think everyone’s accounted for. You can change in here, and there’s a lock.” He glanced down at the 9mm Glock on Dave’s hip. “Not that you need it.”
Dave laughed. “You have no idea.” He went into the room, set the bag on the bed and closed the door. He didn’t bother with the lock. Maybe he’d get lucky.
Roger turned and went back to the stairs.
He just caught sight of Jill where she’d stopped on the fourth step from the bottom. He shook his head and watched.
She double-checked her waistband, tugged her tank top a little this way and a little that.
He let his gaze caress her narrow shoulders.
She raised her left hand, allowing it to slip gently along the bannister as she continued her descent.
Beneath that blue tank top her breasts were perfect. He’d been glancing at her chest all evening. Below her tight, trim waist, her Daisy Dukes swayed from side to side. And her feet were bare, trim ankles flexing with each descending step.
He grinned. Barefoot, pregnant and in the kitchen. That’s where she was headed, and no doubt.
He considered calling to her in a whisper, hooking one finger to invite her back upstairs.
But she was too far gone. Someone would hear.
He took his time descending. He studied her perfect bottom as she worked it through another step, then another, then off the final stair.
And she turned to face the music.
What a strange thought. Face the music. But everyone did that in one way or another.
Crystal stuck her head around the corner, looked upstairs. “Oh, there you are.”
Jill located Ray on the floor. He was dancing with that slut. She stepped between them, facing Julie. “Your cop’s upstairs,” she said and grinned.
“Which room?”
Jill turned away and shrugged. “Don’t know. Ask Roger.” She began dancing with Ray, seductively moving her palms along her hips. She closed her eyes so he could watch and thought of the sounds she’d heard through the bathroom wall.
As Roger reached for Crystal’s hand, Julie moved past him to the stairs. “Going to the bathroom,” she mumbled, just as if anybody cared. Besides, they all knew where she was going.
Roger nodded. He started to say “Last door” but changed his mind. Fun is fun, and there’s little enough of that in this world.
A moment later they all heard the shriek.
Crystal looked at Roger. “What was that?”
Roger laughed. “I think she tried the guest bedroom. George and Tempy were pretty busy in there.”
Jill said, “I really doubt we’ll see Julie for awhile.”
And they all laughed.
But upstairs, Julie first went in the bathroom.
She looked into the mirror, moved that strand of hair behind her ear. She leaned in close, smiled broadly, checked her teeth. She ran her tongue across them, then her lips, moistening them the slightest bit. She pinched her cheeks lightly in several places too, to make the color surface, then replaced the strand of hair again.
She stepped back, arched her shoulders slightly, glad she’d decided against wearing a bra tonight.
She thought of Dave, the fine young specimen, waiting in the guest room. Then she turned to face the full-length mirror on the door.
Her gaze traveled to her leather sandals. She slipped out of them as an afterthought. Then up over her well-tanned legs and then her hot-pink shorts. Up over her tummy, just the right amount showing above the hip-hugging waistband. And higher still, her “unclean thoughts”—that’s what the priest would call them—pressed her nipples out against her blouse.
“He can’t resist all this,” she said and giggled. She was gonna bag herself a cop.
And as she reached to turn the bathroom door knob and join her intended just next door, “Oh George!” she heard. An exaggerated whisper, frantic, hungry, longing for release.
So George and Tempy, eh? She grinned. “Oh well. That puts him down in Roger’s room. That’s better.” And his door locked, or at least she thought it did. She didn’t want any interruptions.
She reached again, turned the bathroom door knob and stepped into the hall. At the next door, she paused and listened.
She grinned. Wow. George the animal. Who would have thought it, with him always dressed like Charlie Brown and all? But maybe he’d be next on her list. First the cop.
* * *
Behind the closed door of Roger’s room, Dave turned off the light and drew the blinds. He set the bag on the bed, opened it. He set his duty cap alongside it.
He carefully took off the duty belt, and dropped it and the holstered gun onto the bed.
He unbuttoned the shirt and took it off—the confining thing—then buttoned it again.
He lay it face-down on the extra pillow, then folded the long sleeves carefully down along the sides. He folded each side in toward the center, then folded the bottom up, then up again. He turned the whole thing over, and he made a minor adjustment here and there.
Then he lay it in the bottom of the bag, forming it just right. Ready for the shelf.
He stepped back, unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers.
He removed them, folded the front of the waistband in on itself, so the button opposed the hole. He lay them gently on the bed, maintaining the creases front and back. He folded them in half and then in thirds, and placed them on the shirt in the bag.
Carefully, he took the duty belt and turned it upside down. He set it carefully in the bag, a circle facing up. He picked his duty cap up from the bed where he’d first dropped it when he closed the door, and dropped it upside down inside the circle. Everything fit just right.
He grinned and licked his lips. Unless he missed his guess, Miss Julie herself would be here soon. She didn’t seem the kind to want to wait.
He quickly pulled his t-shirt over his head. No need to fold that. He tossed it into the bag.
He tugged his undershorts down off his hips and they dropped to the floor. With his right foot, he kicked them up into the air and caught them, then laughed and tossed them into the bag as well. They’d be thrown away back on the ship.
Then he turned and faced the full-length mirror.
He flexed his shoulders, stretched his arms high above him. He interlaced his fingers, rolled his neck, and watched his chest expand, contract, expand. He grinned and with his fingers touched his mouth before it disappeared. A curious expression of delight, wasn’t it?
Then it was gone, and the fingers with it. The transformation had begun.
The door knob began to turn, tentatively.
Julie entered, but the room was dark. She grinned, then turned and closed the door quietly. She threw the lock. No need for interruption.
She grinned and turned around. “Dave? You here?”
And in her mind she heard him say, “I’m here. Come over here.”
She grinned and took a step.
She shrieked, but not for long.
A moment later, from his new position on the floor, Dave sensed the gentle rhythm of the music pulsing through the house.
That Julie, she was quite an appetizer. Now for the rest.
Dave flowed along the hallway and down the stairs.
* * * * * * *