Terry would always be a stead-fast cop, married and judicious, but tonight he had some whoring in mind. As Carol removed her tawny fur coat, Terry leaned against the door and pressed his ear tight.

“You know there’s no rat in the hall,” Carol laughed. She had always been a joker.

“Quiet, doll, before I send you back down to the street corner where you belong.” Terry removed his ear from the door and placed his gun on the nightstand. “You’ll be two-timing tricks in the back of those yellow cabs you love so much.” He slid both suspenders from his shoulders and undid the clasp.

Carol gasped. “Why Mr. Penciotti, don’t you talk to me like that—I’m sensitive!”. She moved to the corner of the bed.

“Yeah, I know. Now why don’t you take off those clothes.” Carol moved to slide down her stockings but Terry stopped her. “Not those.”

“Yes, Doctor.” Carol replied. She fell to the floor and hunched over. Terry followed up soon behind. “You know this costs extra…Kneeling simply ruins my nylons.”