Bisexual Blues
By David O. Sullivan
Published by JMS Books LLC
Visit jms-books.com for more information.
Copyright 2018 David O. Sullivan
ISBN 9781634865814
Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com
Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.
All rights reserved.
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This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America.
* * * *
Bisexual Blues
By David O. Sullivan
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 1
1980, San Jose, California
Officer Dino Parelli strode in the hallway behind his former academy mate, Norris Bander, checking out the sharp and tight blue wool uniform. Bander had a hot ass and was two inches taller than his own 5’9” stature. Parelli knew Bander was sexier, but Parelli wouldn’t be kicked out of anyone’s bed. He’d love to advance their close friendship into a sexual one. He knew he should lift weights like Bander.
Once in the empty briefing room, they rushed to get an end seat, jostling and pushing each other. As usual, they were thirty minutes early for the ten P.M. police roll call.
Briefing sergeant Joe Walters, the only other person in the expansive room, stood at the podium and barked, “This is the fucking San Jose Police Department, not grade school.”
Bander tensed. “Okay, Sarge. Sorry.”
The guys smirked at each other.
Parelli moaned. “Yes, Daddy. Are you going to tell Santa?” They read wanted bulletins.
The sergeant groaned. “Parelli, why the hell can’t you be like Bander and show remorse? How in the hell did you get through the academy?”
The door opened, and Officer Amelia Honeycut strolled in. The attractive and curvaceous creature had two years seniority on the guys, coming up on two years themselves.
Honeycut responded, “Sarge, you must be talking to Parelli. Rumor had it he blew all the training officers in the academy.”
“That was you, Amelia,” Parelli retorted.
She shrieked, “Oh! It was me! Well, we all have to be good at something.” She cackled and sat in front of the guys but turned back. “Norris, just so you know, a few of the female officers were talking about guys they’d like to bang, and you were towards the top of the list. You’re sexy, have cute dimples when you smile, and your hair is sexy, longer than average but always neat and clean, and you’re fit and so polite and don’t disrespect female officers.” She smiled, looking at him in the eyes. “Just so you know.”
Dino moaned. “What am I, chopped liver?” He took in her tall, athletic build, hot ass, and light brown hair put up in a bun. She sure as hell qualified as good-looking. He wondered how much of her blowjob reputation was true. He appreciated she obviously worked out with weights.
The sergeant slammed a book closed. “Damn, I wish for the days when everyone in blue had a Johnson.”
Amelia blinked innocently. “Johnson?”
Parelli whispered, “That’s a wee-wee, you know, penis.”
The trio of officers laughed and reviewed department updates and wanted bulletins. Other officers filtered in, taking seats at the Formica, twenty-foot tables with old style wooden chairs. At ten, Sergeant Walters took roll of the dozens of officers staffing the midnight shift. Various other supervisors added comments, a bawdy joke was told, and everyone headed out to his or her patrol car, not that there were many women in policing.
Dino Parelli piloted his car around his beat, handling routine calls, sometimes alone, half the time with another officer assigned. Dino enjoyed being awake while the rest of the populace slept. He met Bander at a twenty-four-hour convenient mart for coffee and chocolate cupcakes. They chatted with the clerk, watched the till while he used the restroom, and headed behind a closed shopping center, standing and chatting.
Bander groaned. “I’m falling asleep.”
Parelli shook his head. “Take a nap. I’ll babysit you.” He again admired Bander’s sexy build, 5’11”, one hundred eighty-five pounds with a chin dimple and handsome face.
“I hate sleeping on duty.”
“Fuck it, night workers have slept on duty forever.”
“It’s against regulations.”
Parelli smirked. “So is this.” He reached into his car, grabbed the microphone, and blew into a duck call over the silent police radio.
Other officers moaned and commented back on the radio; some clicked their microphones to make static. When the radio calmed, Parelli keyed the microphone again and blew another series of duck quacks.
Bander cracked up. They hugged in humor. Other officers clicked their microphones and one responded, “Bang, bang. Got him.”
Then on the radio, “Parelli! What’s your location?”
Bander smiled. “Sarge is on you.”
Parelli answered, “Cottle Rd. and Santa Teresa. To the rear.”
“Wait there!”
“Yes, Sarge.”
Parelli shoved the duck call down the front of Bander’s blue, wool uniform pants. “Hold it for me.”
“Like all the dope we find on people and they say, ‘Honest, officer, I was just holding it for a friend.’ Did you like shoving your hand in my pants?” He laughed.
“It wasn’t bad, but I’d love to do it to Amelia.” He paced. “Do you believe the rumors that she sucks everyone?”
Bander barked back, “Aw, rumors are bullshit. She likes attention; probably started them herself. Damn, we have a thousand male cops but only twenty-four female officers on the department. I’ve heard they all put out. Rumors. Bah!” He slapped Parelli’s arm.
